Heaven Can Wait
by Kitty Montague
Summary: Immediately follows "As You Were". Spike realises he needs to change the way he treats Buffy if he is to have a chance to win her back, and Riley and Sam Finn reveal their true reason for returning to Sunnydale. COMPLETE AND UPDATED.
1. Brief Encounter

TITLE: Heaven Can Wait  
DISCLAIMER: Surprisingly enough, I don't own any of this. ME and Joss do. But I can pretend.  
THE STORY: Picks up where "As You Were" left off. I felt like making up my own little story on why Riley happened to turn up in Sunnydale just as Buffy's life had reached its lowest point. I also felt like sorting out Buffy and Spike to my own satisfaction. It turned into a slightly longer story than I expected... Anyway, for the purposes of my fic, the events of Normal Again do take place at some point in my story, but the rest of it is AU.  
FEEDBACK: Please. In fact, I'd love some serious reviews on what you think works and what doesn't in my writing.  
  
So let's go ...  
  
  
CHAPTER ONE - BRIEF ENCOUNTER  
  
"I'm sorry ... William."  
  
Buffy exited into sunlight, hesitating for a moment as the bright rays struck her full in the face, making her blink.  
  
She knew she'd done the right thing. Sex with Spike was wrong, on every level. Aside from the whole feeling fantastic thing. It was wrong. She had to make it stop.  
  
So why did she feel so close to tears? She should be feeling relieved. Proud of herself for taking control of her life. Making a good decision, based on logic, common sense, all those sensible things that Giles had told her about.  
  
"I have to be strong about this."  
  
For some reason, she felt disappointed. Guilty, even. The look on Spike's face just now when she had told him that sleeping with him was killing her. It was as though she had shoved a stake through his heart.  
  
"I can't love you. I'm just ... being weak, and selfish ... and it's killing me."  
  
She took a deep breath and made her way through the cemetery, lifting her face to feel the warmth of the sun. Symbolic much? Leaving the crypt of the vampire, moving into the sunlight …. out of the darkness and into the light.  
  
Except she knew it wasn't symbolic. It was deliberate. And cowardly. She had chosen to tell Spike at this time of day, because she didn't want him to be able to follow her. To come after her and try to convince her she was making a mistake.  
  
"Not that he would be able to," Buffy mumbled under her breath. "Cause it's not a mistake. It's a Good Thing."  
  
Seeing Riley again had made her realise just how off the rails things - her life - had gone. He had made her remember what life was supposed to be like, when she was just a college student, with her mother at home, and a nice, normal boyfriend who treated her like a princess. Buffy ignored the little voice in her head that was trying to point out that the college girl had also been the Slayer, and that the nice normal boyfriend worked for a secret government army that hunted demons. Those were unimportant, minor details.  
  
While she was ignoring that little voice, Buffy decided that she was also going to refuse to let herself think about last night, when she had gone to Spike, sought him out, knowing he was the one person that could make her feel better after finding out about Riley's marriage.   
  
"I'm using you."  
  
She was not going to think about asking him, begging him to tell her that he loved her. Not going to think about the emotion in his voice as he did as she asked. Not going to think about the way his eyes had searched hers for some spark of reciprocal feeling …  
  
And definitely not going to think about the way his hands felt on her skin, his lips on her body.  
  
Nope, not going to think about that.  
  
****  
  
It was impossible to stop thinking about her.  
  
Spike raised the bottle to his lips, then scowled when nothing came out. With a growl, he lobbed the bottle across the room, watching it smash against the far wall, the shards joining the rubbish heap left by the blast. How could he have finished an entire bottle of whiskey and not even remember it? And worse, not even feel drunk? He shook his head violently, hoping to feel that wave of dizziness that meant 'drunk'. Nothing. He stood and jumped around. No dizziness. No swaying. Nothing.  
  
"Bloody hell." And no more whiskey. So now what? How the hell was he supposed to rid himself of images of Buffy, here, in his arms, just last night? His to touch, to caress, to love.  
  
He closed his eyes, deliberately conjuring up the picture of her, naked, in his bed, glowing with passion, mindless with need. Then he brought to mind the Buffy that had been here this morning. Still beautiful. Not naked, unfortunately. And dumping him. Could you call it dumping when there had never even been a relationship? Just amazing sex. And a hell of a lot of pain.  
  
Spike chuckled cynically. "Sounds like a bloody relationship to me," he told himself.  
  
So now what? No whiskey. No Buffy. No point in staying in Sunnydale any longer.  
  
Except for one thing.  
  
"She called me William," he whispered. The sound of his voice echoed softly around his crypt. He sighed and sank back down to his seat.  
  
Why did she do that? Why, if she was breaking up with me because I'm a vampire, did she call me by my human name? What was all that about?  
  
He settled back further into the armchair, legs stretched out in front, and closed his eyes. Think, Spike. Why would she do that?  
  
All right. How about this for a theory? Was she trying to break it gentle? Throw him a crumb by calling him by his human name, for the first time ever? But why would she bother? She was breaking up with him, so why bother trying to make him feel good? It didn't make sense.  
  
Scratch that, then. What else could it be?  
  
Perhaps she was trying to make herself feel better. Trying to tell herself that she hadn't been screwing a vampire, that it was a human standing in front of her, a human called William.  
  
Again. Why would she do that? If she was going to try to convince herself that he was human, surely she would have done so while they were sleeping together. Not while she was telling him that it could never work out. Again, not making sense.  
  
He opened his eyes. He couldn't think of anything else, except ….  
  
Except that, somehow, perhaps subconsciously, she was trying to tell him that she did see something else in him. Maybe she knew that, deep down, there was a "William" inside him somewhere, something or someone that she could admit to loving. He just needed to prove this to her ...  
  
Spike considered this for a few minutes. Maybe he was fooling himself. Most likely, in fact. But if there was a chance ….  
  
"What do you have to lose, mate?" he told himself. After all, all the other ponces in her life had left her. Maybe, just this once, she would want one that could prove he wasn't just going to give up on her.  
  
He had had this debate with himself many, many times. If it was true that being with him was bad for her, then he knew that he would have to leave her. But he just didn't believe it was true. Something kept telling him that he could be right for her. He simply had to make her acknowledge it.  
  
It wasn't as though he had been all that nice to her, he admitted. She knew how to rub him up the wrong way, that's for sure, and he retaliated in kind. He cringed a bit to think of some of the things he had said to her, or in front of her. He wasn't good at bottling his emotions up, and sometimes he would snap. Not exactly gentlemanly, he agreed.  
  
He closed his eyes again. It was worth thinking about. He had a few hours to kill before sundown anyway.  
  
****  
  
"I'll kill her!" Buffy muttered as she rummaged further in her closet. If Dawn had taken her favourite leather jacket, without asking, to wear to the Bronze, then Buffy would definitely kill her. "And no court in this country would blame me!" she warned the empty room. How could she go on patrol without that jacket? She loved that jacket …  
  
The peal of the doorbell interrupted her rant, and she straightened up with a sigh. She stomped down the stairs, renewing her vows to kill her little sister with each thud of her foot, and ignoring the little voice in her head that told her she was being a cranky-pants. She'd been in a bad mood all day, and finding her favourite jacket missing was just the final straw.  
  
No, she was wrong. The final straw was standing outside her front door.  
  
"What do you want, Spike?" she said, not bothering to hide the exasperation in her voice.  
  
One of his eyebrows went up. "Thought you might miss this," he drawled, holding out a leather jacket. Her favourite leather jacket. The one she had been prepared to kill Dawn over. The one she had worn when she went to Spike's crypt one night last week …  
  
"Oh. Thanks." She took the jacket from him, making sure that no physical contact took place.  
  
"Don't worry, I've not come over to get in your hair," Spike told her, keeping his voice light. "Just thought you'd want your jacket. Um, and this …" he reached into an inside pocket of his leather duster "…is for Dawn. I promised it to her a while back."  
  
He handed her an old book, bound in leather. It fell open in her hands and she stared blankly at page of verse.  
  
"What is it?" she asked automatically, then winced, waiting for the sarcastic rejoinder.   
  
"Poetry?" It came as expected, and she sighed. Sometimes he could be so predictable. "It's a book I've had for a while, it has some lines I thought Dawn would find interesting. We talked about some of it a while back, when she first found out she was the Key. So I told her I'd lend it to her."  
  
"Oh." That's so nice. But she wasn't going to say those words out loud.  
  
"Just two things I need to say, Buffy."  
  
She looked up, prepared to forestall him. She wasn't going to let him try to sweet talk her. Or any other kind of talk.  
  
He continued before she got the chance. "Don't fret, love, I heard what you said this morning." His head tilted in that way that made her stomach flutter, and his eyes bored into hers. "I won't be pestering you, Buffy. I just wanted to say that, I'll still be around if you need any help. You know, looking after Dawn or anything like that.  
  
"Secondly, I need to tell you … I was minding those eggs for friend, Buffy. I didn't know what they were, I just owed him a favour. He needed a place to store them. I don't know if you believe me or not, but I want you to know the truth."  
  
He stopped speaking. She wouldn't even meet his eyes, and he sighed. Oh well. Can't say he didn't try.   
  
"Right then. Bye, Slayer." He gave her a half-grin, just that little curl of his mouth, then turned and walked away, the darkness swallowing him quickly until even his white-blonde hair wasn't visible in the night.  
  
Only then did Buffy realise she was still standing at the open door, clutching her jacket and the book.  
  
****  
  
"We'll do this by the book, Finn!"  
  
"Yes sir." Riley answered smartly, but mentally he was shaking his head. With Buffy, and the Scoobies, there was no "by the book". Improvisation was their best weapon. He remembered hearing the story about the time Buffy had destroyed the Judge. Books had been pretty useless then, hadn't they? But you couldn't argue with Colonel McNamara. He was too senior in the Initiative. And if he wanted to stick to the original plan for getting rid of Buffy, then that's what they would do.  
  
TBC 


	2. Wedding Bells

CHAPTER TWO - WEDDING BELLS  
  
The slam of the door roused Buffy from her absorption in the poems. Who was that? It couldn't be Dawn, it was far too early for her to be back from the Bronze ...  
  
It was Dawn, and Buffy rose to her feet.  
  
"Dawn? What's wrong?"  
  
Her sister looked at her, bewildered. "Nothing's wrong. Why? What's happened?"  
  
"Nothing. Nothing's happened. You're back so early, I just thought that something was wrong ..."  
  
"Early?" Dawn queried. "I thought my curfew was eleven. Do you mean I could have stayed out later?"  
  
"No, of course not. But it's not eleven yet ..." Buffy looked at her watch. Smack on eleven o'clock. "Oh my God! I had no idea it was so late! I haven't been patrolling yet ..."  
  
"What have you been doing?" Dawn asked. Her eyes fell on the book of poetry on the couch. "Oh! Did Spike drop that over? I was wondering if he was still planning to lend it to me. Is that what you've been reading?"  
  
"Um. Yes. So .." Buffy sought to change to topic, unsettled by the fact that she had become so absorbed in the poetry that she had lost all track of time. "Where's Willow?"  
  
"She's still at the Bronze," Dawn confided. "We met Tara there, and they kind of got all intense talking, so Xander and Anya and I left. They just dropped me off."  
  
"Right. Well I'll wait till Willow get back before I patrol ..."  
  
"I wouldn't bother with the patrol thing," said Dawn airily as she made her way up the stairs with the book. "So many of Anya's wedding guests are in Sunnydale at the moment, you might end up staking the chief bridesmaid." She grinned over her shoulder. "Goodnight!"  
  
Good point. Buffy collapsed on the sofa. So. No patrolling. No book. Definitely no Spike. And unfortunately, no sleepiness. What was she going to do now?  
  
She stretched out on the sofa and closed her eyes, recalling the lines of verse she had just read. They were amazing. Powerful. As though the writer had seen into her head and pulled forth her feeling, thoughts, emotions. Her battles, mental and physical, all transcribed on the page. She knew that Dawn would find comfort in the poems. It was very thoughtful of Spike to ...  
  
She shook her head. No. No thinking like that. Bad Buffy.  
  
She sighed and looked for the TV remote control. Might as well see what was on the late night movies.  
  
****  
  
Spike flicked off the TV in disgust. Nothing worth watching at all.  
  
He paced around his crypt, which he had tidied and refurnished, feeling trapped. Two weeks. Over two week, in fact. Since he had seen Buffy. He had hoped that she would pay him a visit, find some excuse to see him. But he wasn't surprised that she hadn't. She could be pretty strong-willed.  
  
The only thing that had kept him from going mad was the knowledge that he would be seeing her tonight. At Xander and Anya's wedding.  
  
He had been touched when Anya had dropped round an invitation a few weeks back.  
  
"Xander didn't want to invite you," she had informed him with her customary bluntness, and he had had to hide a smile. Not really surprising, that. "But I've got to put up with all his family, so I'm inviting you." She had shoved a cream envelope into his hands, and left.  
  
So at least he knew he would see Buffy tonight. It was even worth attending a wedding, just for that. Oh, and of course to see the look on Xander's face when he turned up.  
  
****  
  
The look on Dawn's face was one of complete and utter horror.  
  
"They're not that bad," said Willow, ever optimistic.  
  
"No. They're worse, " grumped Buffy.  
  
Willow, Dawn and Buffy stared at their reflections disconsolately. Glow-in-the-dark bridesmaid dresses? What was Anya thinking?  
  
"Well, it's not as though we didn't know," Willow said, trying to rally the troops. "We've had about a gazillion fittings. We knew they were green."  
  
"And fluffy," added Buffy.  
  
"And gross," contributed Dawn.  
  
Buffy studied the frilly, long dresses, then looked at the three faces reflected in the mirror. It was too much. The frothy dresses and the gloomy faces were such a contrast .... she began to giggle. Willow and Dawn looked at her in surprise.  
  
"Sorry guys," she said, controlling her chuckles. "It's just ... it's a wedding, not a funeral. And it's what Anya wanted. After all, there's going to be a lot worse at this wedding!"  
  
"True," the others agreed. They all squared the shoulders and pasted broad smiles on their faces, then went to meet Anya, humming "Here Comes The Bride".  
  
****  
  
The sounds of the Wedding March filled the room, and Dawn, then Willow, then Buffy proceeded down the central aisle. The movement of a blonde head on her right caught Buffy's attention, and she almost stumbled as she recognised Spike sitting in one of the rows. Next to that vengeance demon who was a friend of Anya's. The one who had put the spell on the house at her birthday - what was her name? Halfrek. Who hadn't been able to take her eyes off Spike that day ...  
  
Buffy realised she was lagging and quickened her pace to catch up with Willow. Behind her, Anya was being led down the aisle by the demon d'Hoffryn, and Buffy moved into place as the ceremony began.  
  
The service wasn't long, and shortly they all moved into the reception area where drinks were being served, under the watchful eyes of the bride and groom. Spike watched as Buffy avoided both his eyes and his presence, circulating around the room anywhere but near him. Luckily for him, Halley seemed to have taken quite a fancy to him, and was keeping him entertained with anecdotes of her job. It wasn't too hard to look as though he was enjoying himself whenever Buffy happened to look his way. Which he sensed was quite often.  
  
As the food began to be served, Spike grabbed a full bottle of beer and retreated upstairs, where he knew there was a secluded balcony where he could smoke while everyone ate. He pulled out the first cigarette of the evening and lit up, inhaling the smoke deeply and enjoying the combined taste of beer and nicotine. One good thing about a demon wedding, you can guarantee there'll be good beer, he told himself. Not like that weak American piss you usually get in Sunnydale ...  
  
His musings on beer were interrupted by a green-clad form slipping onto the balcony and turning to shut the door. He wasted a moment admiring the excellent figure before ...  
  
"Don't shut the door!" But it was too late. Buffy had closed the door behind her. The one without a handle on this side.  
  
Buffy jumped at the sound of the voice. She just had to get away from the party for a bit, feeling stifled in the unwieldy dress and uncomfortable at knowing Spike was in the room. She dreaded the thought of him approaching her, while at the same time wondering why he hadn't yet. She had remembered that there was a quiet balcony upstairs and had decided to slip away, just for 10 minutes, while everyone found their seats and started on their food. She hadn't expected to find anyone else up here. Least of all Spike. She hadn't seen anyone on the balcony as she entered from the brightly lit hallway. She spun around, searching for him in the darkness.  
  
He was perched on the stone wall around the balcony, legs hanging down the side, a beer resting by his side and the smoke from a cigarette trailing from his fingers. He looked ...  
  
She had noticed what he looked like earlier. He had dressed in his customary black, but in an elegant black shirt and tailored trousers, with a long black dress coat instead of his usual casual gear. He looked ... amazing.  
  
As she looked at him, unable to say anything, he swung down from the wall and came over to her. She prepared to fend him off, but he reached straight past her to the door. What was going on?  
  
"Bloody hell," she heard him say.  
  
"What - what's wrong?" Buffy asked.  
  
"There's no door handle on this side," he said curtly. "We're trapped."  
  
"What?" Buffy scrabbled at the door, looking for a way to open it, while he moved back to the railing and pulled himself up again. He watched her, one eyebrow raised, as she realised the futility of her actions and swung around with a sigh to lean against the door.  
  
"Great," she said. "So now what?"  
  
"Someone will come looking for us sooner or later," Spike said with a shrug. "Or else someone will come out onto the balcony. We'll just have to wait."  
  
She resigned herself to the wait and, with feigned nonchalance, strolled over towards him. The balcony was on the third storey, and commanded an excellent view over Sunnydale. She peeped over at the driveway below them, and then sideways at Spike, perched precariously on the wall.  
  
"I'd just have to give you one little push ..." she joked, motioning at the drop below.  
  
He didn't move. "But you wouldn't."  
  
She raised her eyebrows at him, a bit annoyed by his lack of concern. After all, she was the Slayer. And he was a vampire. He should be a little more wary of her.  
  
"Oh really? I wouldn't?" she asked.  
  
He shrugged. "I know you wouldn't. I trust you."  
  
"You TRUST me?" she said sharply. "What do you mean, you trust me? Why should you?"  
  
He seemed amused by her anger, and that made her rage increase. "I know you wouldn't hurt me, Buffy. Just as you know, deep down, that I would never hurt you."  
  
"I don't know any such thing!" she shouted, incensed. She dragged him off the railing and threw him against the wall, pinning him there. "I don't trust you at all. You're a vampire. A demon. There's no way I would ever trust you!"  
  
The amusement was gone from his eyes now, but he continued to regard her calmly.  
  
"I would never hurt you, Buffy." His voice was low but strong.  
  
"Oh really?" She tilted her head, exposing the line where her throat curved into her shoulder. "I'm the only human on the planet that you're able to feed on, aren't I, Spike? Do you ever think of that? Do you ever think that, if you want to enjoy the feed, the feast, ever again, then I'm the only person you'll be able to come to? Are you trying to tell me that you've never thought about it, never remembered what it was like? Wondered if you'll ever experience it again? Well, here I am. Your one and only chance. Why don't you just take it?"  
  
His eyes were fastened on the scar at her neck where others had fed from her. She couldn't see the expression in them, but she knew it would be hunger. Hunger for her blood. He was going to do it ...  
  
He lowered his head, seeking that vulnerable spot, and she felt the most overpowering sense of disappointment. He was going to do it ...   
  
She held firm, wanting him to bite her, wanting it to happen so that she could finally, for good, hate him the way that she should.  
  
His lips brushed against the scar in the most tender kiss she had ever experienced, and she was unable to prevent a shiver that sparked down her spine.  
  
"I will never hurt you, Buffy." His voice was a whisper, a vow, and she felt the rush of air lift the hairs at the nape of her neck. Unbidden, her fingers loosened their hold on him, all strength drained from her. His head raised and she found herself staring into ice-blue eyes, unable to tear her gaze away.  
  
A noise at the door broke into her trance, and she pushed herself away from Spike as the door opened.  
  
"Hello?" Dawn's head appeared. "Buffy? Are you out here?"  
  
"Dawn!" Buffy almost leapt towards her. "Thank God! The door shut, and we were trapped ..."  
  
"We?" Dawn's gaze finally fell on Spike. "Hey! Spike! I was hoping to see you! I've read that book of poetry, like, a thousand times! It's so excellent! Can I talk to you about it one time? Why don't you come over one night in the week? We can sit down and talk about them ..."  
  
Her voice trailed off as she saw the look of horror on Buffy's face, but her gaze didn't falter. "You don't mind do you Buffy? It was nice of Spike to lend me his book, I've got to give it back to him sometime. And I'd really like to discuss some of it with him. Unless you'd rather I went by his place some time?"  
  
Subtle, Spike thought with an inward smile. There was no way in hell Buffy would ever allow that and Dawn knew it perfectly well. And Buffy knew that Dawn knew that. He kept his poker face on though. He wasn't going to get involved in this discussion. It was entirely up to Buffy.  
  
Buffy longed to say no, but the look on Dawn's face was too much. It meant so much to her.  
  
"Sure," she said with forced cheerfulness. "How about Thursday?"  
  
Spike nodded casually, then moved past her to the open door. "Thursday it is." He bent to give Dawn a kiss on the cheek. "How 'bout a dance later, niblet?"  
  
In her shock, Buffy almost found herself locked outside again. Dazed, she followed her sister and Spike downstairs, watching as they laughed and joked. She shook her head in amazement. What kind of weird world did she live in, where her best friend was marrying a demon (okay, ex-demon) and her sister was best pals with a vampire?  
  
"It's called Sunnydale," she told herself with a sigh, and she went to get some dinner.  
  
****  
  
"Dinner-time at the zoo," McNamara murmured, watching bags of various foods being wheeled down the long corridors.  
  
Riley dodged around one cart that threatened to take him out, then caught up with Sam and McNamara . They only had about 50 vampires at the moment, but the centre could hold up to 500. Buffy's return from the dead had thrown a very large spanner into the works. All those vampires, rounded up and herded towards a Sunnydale that should have been Slayer-free, only to find that she had been brought back to life somehow, and was making short work of all those hostiles. No, not hostiles. They were called "subjects" now. Part of the Initiative's big plan.  
  
Riley took a deep breath as they entered the meeting room. It was time to update the leaders on their progress with neutralising the Slayer, and learn the next stages of the plan.  
  
He saluted the woman already in the meeting room, and took the seat indicated, next to Sam. He bit back a grin as she leaned slightly away from him. She had hated pretending to be his wife the other week. Sam's interests definitely lay in other areas. In fact, she hadn't been able to stop talking about Willow for days.  
  
Lara Wilcox had started speaking, and he mentally snapped to attention.  
  
"I've read your progress report, Colonel McNamara," she was saying. "The intervention by Finn and Maddison here was definitely beneficial. Our surveillance has shown that she has stopped spending time with the vampire, and our doctors definitely believe that she has become more depressed in the past few weeks. We will soon be able to implement the final stages of the program, and then the plan can proceed as planned."  
  
"Excellent." McNamara hesitated, and his eyes flicked to Riley. "Ms Wilcox, I think we should be prepared for every eventuality when it comes to dealing with the Slayer. Her past record has shown a remarkable ability to deal with every challenge."  
  
Wilcox's mouth turned into a small, tight smile. "We are completely prepared, Colonel. It will all go to plan. The Slayer will be neutralised, and we will begin releasing the subject vampires. There is absolutely no cause for alarm."  
  
  
TBC 


	3. The Usual Suspects

CHAPTER THREE - THE USUAL SUSPECTS  
  
The sound of the alarm roused Buffy from sleep, and she buried her head in her pillow for a moment, trying to recapture the wonderful dream she had been having. A dream about ... She sat bolt upright as she realised that the dream was about Spike. God, what was wrong with her? How could she be dreaming about sex with a vampire? Even if it was incredible sex. Everyone knows that great sex doesn't mean anything, she scolded herself as she stumbled into the shower. In fact, everyone knows that great sex usually takes place with completely incompatible people. That's the definition of great sex.  
  
She turned her head into the spray of the shower, willing away all thoughts of Spike and sex. Spike, naked ... It was useless. She was rarely able to think of anything else. He'd managed to get under her skin, and she hadn't even realised until it was too late.  
  
The day at work seemed to go even slower than usual. Thank goodness she was on the early shift, so she'd be home when Dawn got back from school. She hated the fact that Dawn was alone in the house so much. Having Willow live with them made a huge difference, but even so, Dawn spent far too much time alone. It was why she'd found it impossible to refuse Dawn's request to invite Spike over ... which, Buffy realised, was happening tonight.  
  
At long last her shift was over, and she hurried home, determined to wash away all smells of Doublemeat Palace as soon as she could. She soaked in the tub for a while, then pulled on some jeans and a top, before heading downstairs to sort out some laundry. She was running out of clothes, and had arranged to meet Willow at the Bronze later in the evening. Xander and Anya were still on their honeymoon for the next few weeks, and they were planning a good ol' girls night out.  
  
She was setting up the ironing board to tackle the huge pile of crumpled clothes when the door slamming announced that Dawn was home.  
  
"Hey Buffy!" Dawn flung her school bag onto the couch before coming to give Buffy a hug. She was in high spirits, and Buffy couldn't help smiling. "I'm going to bake a cake. Do we have enough butter in the fridge?"  
  
She disappeared into the kitchen at whirlwind speed, and Buffy heard her rummaging around. "Found it!" Dawn reappeared clutching the tub triumphantly like a trophy. "Do you think Spike likes cake?"  
  
"He's always talking about it," Buffy mumbled, but Dawn had already gone back into the kitchen. From the noise she made, it sounded more like an earthquake was taking place than cooking, but eventually the scent of baking filled the house, and Dawn rushed through the living room on her way upstairs.  
  
"I'm going to shower now and get ready for the Bronze," she called over her shoulder. "Call me if the timer on the oven goes off!"  
  
The bathroom door slammed, and Buffy debated whether or not to go see what state the kitchen was in. She cast an eye on the pile of ironing next to her, and decided not to. "One challenge at a time," she told herself.   
  
She got through a few more pieces of ironing before the doorbell rang. It was dark outside already, and it could only be one person ...  
  
Spike.  
  
She squared her shoulders. Smoothed back her hair. Straightened her top. And went to answer the door.  
  
Slowly, her eyes travelled up ... from black boots ... legs clad in black jeans ... surrounded by black leather ... a black belt ... a dark grey shirt ... and then the shock of the pale skin, like a Grecian statue, the platinum hair slicked back, that irresistible head tilt ... and the blue eyes like a dive into an ice-cold sea ... except that these made her feel hot. The eyes of an angel that promised nothing but pleasure ...  
  
"Buffy." His voice was a shock She almost had to shake herself out of her reverie.  
  
"Spike. Come in." She stood aside to allow him to enter, and almost jumped as the swing of the leather coat brushed against her thigh. Quickly, she followed him into the living room, gesturing for him to have a seat.  
  
"So. Um. Dawn will be right down." Did her voice sound strange? She cleared her throat, conscious of his eyes on her but not daring to meet them. "Can I, um, get you a drink?"  
  
"I'm good." How could he sound so calm and collected? Wasn't he the one that was supposed to be in love with her? Then why was she the gabbling idiot here? She risked a peek at his eyes....  
  
They were locked on her. The look in them ... it made her catch her breath. The same look she had seen when he had been moving inside her, trying to show her his love without actually saying it because he knew that she didn't want to hear. The look that made her stomach clench and her breath catch. Even now, in her living room, with Dawn upstairs and the iron hissing ... all she could think of was how he made her feel. How he had worshipped her body with hands and lips and tongue, showing her all the things that he didn't dare to say. How he had caressed her, bringing her pleasure over and over before letting himself take his own. The expression on his face as he entered her, complete concentration, lost in the moment, in the sensation ...  
  
Her eyes were locked with his, her breath coming so quickly she was almost panting. And she jumped a mile when Dawn burst into the room. Slayer senses hadn't even heard her coming down the stairs.  
  
"Spike! I thought I heard you! Hey, I baked a cake. Do you like chocolate cake? Come into the kitchen, we can talk and eat. I wanted to talk to you about that poem about the journey, you know the one?"  
  
Buffy watched as her sister grabbed Spike by the hand and led him into the kitchen. Their voices were faint as she returned to the ironing, but she could still make out what they were saying, even with mouths full of chocolate cake.  
  
She was amazed at what Dawn had to say. She had always thought that her sister was smart, but this was ... insightful, intelligent, thoughtful. She had never realised just how clever Dawn was. And Spike ...  
  
He had told her that he had been a poet. He had also told her that his poetry was bloody awful. But now ... now she saw that he had ...  
  
No! Not that! Never that! Was she going mad? How could she possibly have been thinking that Spike had the soul of a poet?  
  
She flung aside the pair of trousers that she was ironing. She couldn't stand it any longer. She was definitely going mad. Losing her mind. She must be ...  
  
Buffy sprinted up the stairs two at a time and threw herself down on her bed. Her very skin seemed too tight, and she felt like screaming out in frustration. She could have done with a long training session in the Magic Shop, pummelling out her feelings into a punchbag.   
  
She took some deep calming breaths, telling herself that they were helping. Then she took some more deep calming breaths, until she could feel some of the tension easing from her body. Then she pulled herself off the bed and got out the clothes she planned to wear to the Bronze tonight. Dressing quickly, she began to apply some makeup.  
  
"Buffy!" Dawn ran up the stairs.  
  
"Yeah?" Buffy concentrated on putting on mascara.  
  
"Spike's going to come to the Bronze with us. That's okay, right?"  
  
Oh sure, that's fine, Buffy said sarcastically to her reflection. Just what I always wanted.  
  
"Buffy?"  
  
"Oh. Yeah, sure." She didn't trust herself to say anything else, but she looked at herself in the mirror and rolled her eyes.  
  
****  
  
Spike looked around as they entered the Bronze. It seemed like weeks since he'd been here. The last time ... he cast an involuntary glance upwards at the overhanging catwalks. The last time, he'd seduced Buffy up there. Said some pretty stupid things to her. He's had a few drinks and had come over all dark and poetic.  
  
He looked over at her. She was ... beautiful. Not classically beautiful. But the smoothest skin. The most delicious sulky lips. The firmest, sexiest body. And the strongest, purest spirit he had ever encountered.  
  
Her gaze slid his way, and he quickly looked away. Before, in her house, they had shared a moment ... he didn't know what to make of it. But it gave him hope. There had been something in her eyes that told him not to give up.  
  
They spotted Willow at a table and moved over to join her.  
  
"Hi guys! Um, and Spike. Hi! How are we all?" Willow seemed a bit surprised to see Spike, but she quickly accepted it. Spike liked Willow, although he would never dream of telling her that. She was loyal, and sensitive, and intelligent.   
  
"Hey, Red." He perched on a stool at the table and looked around. The band seemed pretty good, and a number of people were jumping around on the dance floor. He watched them for a moment, idly wondering what he would be feeling if he had no chip in his head. He tried to imagine picking one of them as his next meal. Without realising it, he shook his head. He didn't think he would be able to do it. Somehow, they had become real to him. Not just pawns, or lesser life forms, but real people. His eyes moved back to the table. Just like the three beautiful women seated in front of him, engrossed in conversation. He couldn't believe that he had somehow ended up here. From Big Bad to - what? What was he? He looked at the animated faces of Buffy, Dawn, Willow, and knew. He was incredibly lucky.  
  
"Spike!" Dawn's voice roused him, and he turned to her, unable to stop the smile that crept onto his lips. "Come and dance with me! I've been practicing those steps you showed me at the wedding."  
  
She jumped up and grabbed his hand, and he let her lead him onto the dance floor.  
  
There was silence at the table for a few minutes, then ...  
  
"Buffy?"  
  
Buffy tore her gaze from the dance floor, where she was watching Spike and Dawn ham it up. "Uh-huh?"  
  
"What is Spike doing here?" Willow asked.  
  
"The tango?"  
  
"No, no, not there," Willow said. "Here, Buffy. I mean, what's going on? Why did you bring him with?"  
  
"I didn't, not really," said Buffy. "It was Dawn. He came round to see her, to talk about some poetry book that he'd lent her, and then she invited him along ... Sorry. Are you upset?"  
  
Willow shrugged. "No, not upset. Just surprised. I mean, I thought you hated him."  
  
"Well, I do. I did." She sighed. "God, Will, I'm not sure any more." Buffy admitted, and her best friend smiled sympathetically.  
  
"It's hard, isn't it? Sometimes, he seems almost human. Last summer, when you - weren't here - he was actually kind of sweet. He really seems to dote on Dawn. Sometimes I forgot that once upon a time he was trying the whole torture-and-kill stuff on us all."  
  
"You too?" Buffy turned eagerly to Willow. "I thought it was just me, going mad. I mean, it's Spike. Evil vampire, killed two Slayers. Tried to kill us, a number of times. So why do I sometimes forget that?"  
  
Willow shrugged. "I don't know. I guess because of the chip ... it's like, because he knows he can't kill, the urge to do so is fading - kind of like an evolution."  
  
"But -" Buffy had to voice her deepest fear. "What if the chip came out?"  
  
"Who knows, Buffy. We don't really know all that much about vampires. Just that it's a demon who's taken over a human body. But we've seen enough demons to know how different they all are. Some of them are actually - well, not nice exactly. But - Clem - he's, you know, okay. And the vampires are different too. They all have different personalities. They all HAVE personalities." Willow paused, trying to express her thoughts. "Maybe, if the impulse to kill is removed, that personality has a chance to grow. I don't know. Do you think Spike would go back to the way he was, if he could harm humans again?"  
  
"I just don't know," whispered Buffy. She turned to look on the dance floor again. Spike was bending Dawn into a low graceful dip, her long hair almost brushing the floor. Her face was alight with laughter in a way that Buffy hadn't seen since their mother died. Almost against her will, her thoughts returned to that moment on the balcony, when she had dared Spike to bite her, and he had refused. What did that mean?  
  
She noticed that Spike and Dawn were leaving the dance floor, Dawn heading back to the table while Spike went over to the bar.  
  
"That was amazing!" said Dawn, out of breath. Buffy laughed.  
  
"You looked pretty good out there!" she complimented.  
  
"Your sister's got some good moves," Spike said from behind her. He moved onto the stool next to her, placing some drinks on the table. He took a long pull from his bottle of beer. "Worn me out there, niblet."  
  
Dawn made a face. "You're just showing your age, Spike. C'mon Will. Let's show the old'uns how it's done."  
  
Without giving her a chance to reply, Dawn dragged a reluctant Willow onto the dance floor, leaving Spike and Buffy alone at the table.  
  
Buffy felt Spike lean towards her.  
  
"I hope you don't mind my being here, Slayer."  
  
A sarcastic response rushed up, but she remembered the happiness on Dawn's face as she danced, and bit it back.  
  
"Of course not," she said softly instead. She steeled herself to turn and meet his eyes. "I'm glad that Dawn is enjoying herself."  
  
An eyebrow quirked. "And what about you, Buffy." His voice was so low that she had to lean closer to hear him. "Are you enjoying yourself?"  
  
"Of - of course." Was that husky sound her voice?  
  
He slid off his stool in one fluid motion and held out a hand to her. She stared at it, mesmerised.  
  
"Dance with me?"  
  
He eyes flew upwards, meeting his. His face was expressionless, but in his eyes she saw fire.  
  
She stood and placed her hand in his, and in silence they moved onto the dance floor. They faced each other, and he lifted their clasped hands, sliding his other hand around her waist to pull her marginally closer. She rested her free hand on his upper arm, curving it around the muscle that flexed under her palm. Slowly, they began to dance.  
  
She was here, in his arms. Spike wanted to close his eyes and just breathe in the scent of her, but he was afraid that if he closed his eyes, she would disappear. Instead, he focussed on soft movement of her hair as she swayed to the music, and the feel of her supple body against his. The music washed around him, and he felt, somehow, at peace.  
  
Buffy couldn't put her finger on what she was feeling. She frowned lightly, taking out the sensation and turning it over in her mind. It was an unfamiliar feeling. But a nice one. It felt good. It felt, somehow, like safety.  
  
Her frown deepened. Is that what she was feeling? In Spike's arms, swaying against his body? Did she feel - safe?  
  
Mentally, she shrugged. The frown smoothed away. Whatever. Whatever it was, she was just going to enjoy it. She closed her eyes and let the music wash around her.  
  
Too soon, the song ended, and the band indicated that they were going to take a break. Buffy pulled slightly back and met Spike's eyes.  
  
"Would you like a drink?" he asked. She nodded her head. Drink. That would be good.  
  
She watched as he moved over to the bar. He moved like a cat, she noticed. Graceful, sleek, deliberate...  
  
Her attention was pulled away by a hand wrapping itself around her wrist.  
  
"Hey there gorgeous! This is your lucky night. I'm here, and I ain't gonna leave you." A tall, dark and overweight guy was standing over her, gripping her arm and leering. Yuk. He stank of beer and sweat, and he looked like he was having problems focussing. She considered laying him out cold, but decided that wasn't really good manners. She'd try and make him see sense first.  
  
"Actually, I'm here with someone," she said calmly. "Please let go of my arm."  
  
He laughed. "I don't see anyone here, gorgeous. So you've got me all to yourself." He tugged on her wrist and, unprepared, she found herself falling against him. He wrapped an arm around her and started to rub himself against her.  
  
Before she could seriously do him some damage, she heard a voice behind her.  
  
"I don't think you're really her type, mate. Why don't you back off before you get hurt."  
  
Spike? Buffy twisted her head to look at him, jaw dropping. What on earth did he think he was doing?  
  
The moron holding her seemed to be wondering the same thing, although probably for a different reason. "You back off, Blondie. I found her, I'm keeping her."  
  
Before Spike could do something stupid and get hurt, Buffy decided to speak up. "Sorry, but I wasn't lost." She gripped the moron's pinkie finger and pulled it back, until he released his hold on her with a squeal of pain. She quickly twisted until she was facing his back, his arm held at an awkward angle up behind him, unable to move. "Next time, make sure the lady is interested before laying hands on her," she advised him softly. She debated heaving him up in the air and throwing him across the room, but decided that she didn't want to cause a scene. Instead, she gave him a shove that propelled him off the dance floor and against a table, where he collapsed, rubbing his shoulder. Buffy dismissed him from her mind, and turned to Spike.  
  
"Just what did you think you were doing?" she asked incredulously.  
  
Spike gestured at the moron, who was still moaning to himself. "He was harassing you. I came over to -" His eyes widened as he realised the futility of what he had been planning. "- scare him rigid by coming down with a massive migraine?" he finished wryly instead.  
  
Buffy couldn't help it. She began to laugh out loud at the mental image Spike's words had generated. He lifted an eyebrow at her, and she laughed even harder. "Scare him - rigid - with a massive migraine!" she gasped, struggling to control herself. Spike's other eyebrow raised to meet the other one, and a smile pulled at the corner of his mouth.  
  
"All right Slayer, I'm glad I've amused you so much," he said dryly. "C'mon, I've got you a drink. Let's sit down and pretend this never happened."  
  
Buffy took a deep breath, swallowed a final giggle, and put on her poker face. "Sure. Drink. Pretend. Never happened." She took the drink from Spike's hand and moved past him to join Willow and Dawn at the table, but couldn't resist winking at him over her shoulder. Spike followed, shaking his head ruefully.  
  
TBC 


	4. Stand By Me

CHAPTER FOUR - STAND BY ME  
  
Spike pushed the doorbell, a bit nervous. He wasn't sure that this was a good idea. But he knew that Buffy wouldn't be here, he'd checked at Doublemeat Palace to make sure. She was working the late shift, wouldn't be home for hours. And after his conversation with Willow at the Bronze the other night, he hadn't been able to stop thinking about some of the things she had said. How hard she was finding it to not do magic. How hard it was without Tara. He knew she had been surprised that she was pouring out her feeling to him, a vampire. But perhaps she had sensed that he understood. Because he was feeling something so similar, with Buffy...  
  
So he had thought of something that might help her. Maybe this was a really stupid idea, but when he had seen this in the shop window, he had impulsively decided to get it for her. He shifted the box in his arms carefully as he heard footsteps approaching the door. It opened, and Willow stood in the doorway.  
  
"Spike! Hi."  
  
He relaxed a bit, seeing nothing but welcome in her expression. "Red. How's things?"  
  
"Oh, you know. Getting better. You?"  
  
"Not too bad." He raised the box slightly. I've, um, brought you something."  
  
Her eyes lit up. "A present? You brought me a present?"  
  
He chuckled. "Yeah. A present."  
  
"Oh! Come in, come in!" She ushered him into the lounge room, where Dawn was doing her homework. "Look, Spike brought me a present!"  
  
Dawn looked up, glad to push her homework aside. "Did you bring me a present?"  
  
"Not this time, Niblet." He set the box down gently on the table, then lifted the lid off it.  
  
Willow and Dawn peered inside. "Goldfish!"  
  
Willow lifted out the heavy hexagonal goldfish bowl and studied the two inhabitants. It had come complete with pebbles in the bottom, and waving reeds. "Oh, and a little diver-man!" She was charmed.  
  
Spike rushed to explain. "I heard that looking after is supposed to be all relaxing. I thought you might like it. Something to look after, but with no demands."  
  
Her eyes raised to meet his. "It's perfect, Spike. Thank you." She knew exactly what he meant. After spilling her heart out to him about how much she missed Tara, how much she regretted what she had done, and how hard she found it to avoid magic, he had thought of something that would help her. Something to care for, something that didn't need magic, something therapeutic. She gave him a gentle smile. "Can I get you a cup of tea? Or coffee? Or whatever."  
  
"Chocolate," Dawn supplied. "He likes hot chocolate. With marshmallows."  
  
"Okay." The three, and the two goldfish, made their way into the kitchen.  
  
*****  
  
Buffy made her way up the porch steps and pushed open the front door wearily. "Guys? I'm home!" She dumped her bag and the dreaded cow-hat on the stairs, and released her hair from its ponytail. She had a headache. It had been a long day at work.  
  
"In the kitchen!" Willow's voice floated out. Buffy raised her eyebrows. Willow actually sounded - happy. That's definitely for the good.  
  
She made her way into the kitchen, pausing when she saw Spike. He was perched on a stool at the counter, long fingers wrapped around a mug. Dawn and Willow were with him. She was reminded of the time she came home to find him here with her mother and her sister, in this same kitchen ...  
  
"Look what Spike got for Willow!" Dawn said, waving her hands excitedly. Buffy followed the gesture to the goldfish bowl, and smiled. She understood instantly. Willow had told her that she had found Spike an excellent listener at the Bronze the other night, and now he had found the perfect gift for her. She gave him a smile.  
  
He smiled back but then got to his feet. "I didn't mean to stay so late. Thanks for the chocolate, Red, Niblet."  
  
"Thanks for the goldfish." Without even thinking, Willow reached up to press a kiss against his cheek.  
  
"You're welcome." He touched her briefly on the shoulder, then turned to brush his lips against Dawn's forehead. "See you." He raised a hand in Buffy's direction, and disappeared out the back door.  
  
Dawn disappeared into the lounge room to pack up her books, and Willow began clearing up the mugs and empty bags of marshmallows. "Do you want something to eat, Buffy?"  
  
Buffy flopped onto the stool that Spike had recently vacated. "No, I'm good." She rested her head on her hands and watched Willow move around the kitchen, then come and sit next to her.  
  
"Buffy, I'm going to ask you something." Willow had on her "resolve" face.  
  
"Shoot." Buffy made herself more comfortable.  
  
"Is there something going on with you and Spike?"  
  
Buffy's head whipped round to stare at her friend. "Um, what do you mean?" she hedged.  
  
"Well, we all know that Spike is in love with you. But I've been wondering lately if you also have feelings for him."  
  
Buffy tried to laugh. "For a vampire?"  
  
"Yes." Willow's tone was firm. "For a vampire."  
  
Buffy sighed, her bravado fleeing. "I just don't know, Will. How could I? He's a vampire. I'm the vampire slayer. We all know how disastrous that combination was with Angel. But sometimes, he does things ... like tonight ... that make me forget ..."  
  
"Buffy, look at me." Buffy looked into her best friend's eyes. "I know that it sounds all wrong. I remember how I felt what I first realised that my feelings towards Tara were more than just friendship. I wondered if there was something wrong with me. I worried about what my friends would all say. Would they think less of me? But then I realised that my friends loved me enough to just want me to be happy. And I knew that I would be happy with Tara." Willow paused, then continued talking. "And ... I've made mistakes that have hurt Tara - the person that I love - enormously. So all I can do now is try to do the right thing, and hope that in time she will realise that I've learnt from those mistakes, and that I have become someone that she can love, and trust, and be with. That what I've done in the past isn't necessarily the person I am now. That I've changed."  
  
Buffy was speechless. Willow smiled and gave Buffy a quick hug. "I'm going to go to bed now. See you in the morning."  
  
*****  
  
Riley flopped down on his bed. They had set the date for next week. That's when they would pick up Buffy, and set the final plan in motion.  
  
He knew that she had to be removed, and he searched his conscience for any feelings of guilt. He was vaguely surprised, and immensely relieved, that he didn't feel any. He believed 100 percent in what the Initiative planned. When it had been explained to him what Professor Walsh had been trying to achieve, he had realised that they were right. The only way to fight the demons, to get rid of them all, was to use other demons. Vampires, to be exact. Vampires were close enough to humans, physically and also mentally, that they made the perfect subject for the chip. The chip that meant they couldn't hurt humans, but could kill other demons. With a few modifications to the test chip that had been implanted in Hostile 17, they would form the perfect army against demons. It was a brilliant plan.  
  
Buffy was the only thing that stood in the way. The news of her death had been welcomed. The news of her return, not so much. So what could they do with a girl that wouldn't stay dead? Neuter her, that's what. Thanks to the series of cameras and microphones that had been set up around Sunnydale by some local nerds with big ideas, they had been able to monitor almost every aspect of Buffy's life. They knew how hard she was finding it to deal with her return. How isolated, alienated she had felt from those around her. How she loathed herself for turning to the one person who gave her what she needed - understanding, love, comfort. How confused she was by the fact that Spike could hurt her, and how she had doubted herself because of that fact.  
  
Riley and Sam's little play-acting had helped make Buffy feel even worse about herself, and more importantly detach her from the support of the vampire Spike. He had been helping her come to terms with her return, and that couldn't be allowed. So the entire episode of the eggs and the demon had been carefully set up, along with Riley's interruption of their love-making for full humiliation, and his little speech that was designed to rub salt in the wounds.  
  
Their next step had been to create the hallucinations that meant Buffy believed she was in a mental institution, not a Slayer at all. That had been tricky, but the scientists had come up with a way of manipulating the mental images that the demon venom had caused. It wasn't perfect, but it had almost worked - they had come so close. But Buffy had managed to fight back, rid her system of the venom and overcome the hallucinations.  
  
Now, it was almost time for the next stage.  
  
TBC 


	5. It Happened One Night

CHAPTER FIVE - IT HAPPENED ONE NIGHT  
  
"Time is running out!"  
  
Riley frowned. Wilcox sounded - almost desperate. He kept silent, watching the woman pacing in front of him. She swung around suddenly to face McNamara.  
  
"My superiors were not happy that we missed the deadline to have 500 subjects here, implanted and under training. They understand that the return of the Slayer was an unexpected delay, but we cannot afford to make any more mistakes. Do you understand?"  
  
A sheen of sweat was appearing on McNamara's forehead. "I understand, Ms Wilcox. The scientific team assures me that they are working to overcome the problem. There should be no reason for the subjects to be able to withstand the training. I'm sure that by tomorrow, the training will be back on schedule."  
  
"You'd better be sure," Wilcox snarled. "One more cock-up, and the Initiative will be over for good, this time. There's only so long I can hide this from my superiors, Colonel."  
  
"Yes ma'am," McNamara said smartly. "I assure you that my next report will more than satisfy. We start the procedure to neutralise the Slayer tomorrow. The plan is fool-proof."   
  
****  
  
Spike stretched out on his couch, abandoning his plan to read the newspaper. He couldn't stop thinking about Buffy. He had been sure that her attitude towards him was changing, but it had now been five days since he had last seen her. Since he had been at her house with Willow and Dawn.  
  
He had hoped that he would hear from her before now. But there hadn't been a peep. He wasn't sure what his next move should be.  
  
Spike debated the options. Plan A. He could pay her a visit. Go round the house. The problem with that was, he would be ignoring her request to him that they have nothing to do with each other. Granted, she wasn't exactly complying with those rules. But he supposed that he shouldn't try to overstep the bounds. He had to tread carefully.  
  
Right. So, Plan B. He could wait for her to pay him a visit. Just like he had been waiting for the past five days. He didn't like that plan very much. It was getting old.  
  
That left Plan C. Which was to "accidentally" run into her somehow. The best bet would be to meet up with her on patrol. He turned this plan over in his head. It wasn't brilliant, but it was the best he could come up with. He checked his watch. 9.00pm. She usually came through this area a bit later. He'd wait for a while, then head out to see if he could find her.  
  
With a plan, Spike felt better. He picked up the newspaper and shook it out in front of him.  
  
****  
  
Buffy moved silently through the cemetery, shaking vampire dust out of her hair and picking her way amongst the headstones. It had been a quiet night. A couple of vamps earlier had barely caused her to raise a sweat. Too easy. She checked her watch. Just past eleven o'clock.  
  
She paused, looking down the path on her left. She knew where it led. Straight to Spike's crypt. She hadn't seen him in a few days. Five, to be exact. Perhaps it would just be polite to pop in and say hello. See how he was.  
  
She made her way half way down the path before she realised what she had just thought.  
  
"Pop in and say hello?" she said out loud, just to savour how truly ridiculous it sounded. "As you do. Pop in on a vampire, have a nice cuppa with your mortal enemy ..." She heaved a sigh. "Buffy Anne Summers, you are truly going mad." She turned and made her way back to her patrol route, shaking her head in disgust.  
  
****  
  
Spike's head lifted. He had heard something outside ....  
  
He changed into his game face, to enhance his senses. Yes. It was Buffy. He could hear her quiet footsteps, smell her unique scent. He fancied he could even hear the thud of her heart and the flow of her blood. It was just like the hunt. Except a thousand times better. Because this time, he wasn't looking to feed.   
  
He brought back his human face, and slid to his feet. She was moving away from him. But he wouldn't let her. Silently, he opened the door and slipped outside.  
  
Buffy was still berating herself when she became aware of footsteps behind her. She froze, bringing her Slayer senses to the fore. Vampires. At least two. One behind her and slightly to the right. Another ... directly behind her.  
  
She swung around. A big vampire, strong too, she realised after a couple of blows. He was barely reeling under her fists and feet. She, however, had felt the impact of his strikes. She had to concentrate, too, on the other vampire. She could feel him coming up on her left side and she allowed herself a quick glance to gauge the threat. Another big vampire. He looked just as tough. He wasn't going to wait for his turn either ... She ducked under his blow, but was helpless to fend off a kick from Vamp A that knocked her off her feet. Winded, she forced herself up and out of the way of a vicious kick. She'd lost sight of Vampire B, but Vamp A was threatening her again - and dammit! She stumbled as her ankle gave beneath her. She must have twisted it - badly - when she fell. She pulled out a stake and hoped for the best. If she could just dust Vamp A before Vamp B had another go at her ... In her heart, she knew she would be lucky to get that chance.  
  
To her relief, however, she saw a black-clad figure with white-blonde hair rush past her, and knew that Spike was taking care of Vamp B. So she could concentrate on dusting this one ... She held her ground as he rushed, knowing that she didn't have the manoeuvrability to out-move him. Her stillness seemed to throw him, and she saw him hesitate for a split-second. It was all she needed. She slipped under his arm and she drove the stake hard into his heart. In a second, he was gone.  
  
She turned just in time to see the other vampire disappear in a cloud of dust, and Spike straighten up.  
  
"Spike. Thank God you turned up!" she breathed. He turned to her with a raised eyebrow, and she blushed as she realised how gushing she had sounded. She rushed to explain: "I think I've twisted my ankle. I'm not sure how long I could have held them off for ..." Oh, whatever, she told herself. Who cares if Spike heard her gush. He'd heard her gush worse, in bed ... She told herself to shut up now.  
  
He strode towards her, frowning. "You've twisted your ankle? How bad?" He paused in front of her, waiting for her to test the injury. Buffy hobbled forward gingerly. It definitely hurt. She couldn't put much weight on it. Her patrolling was over for the night.  
  
He grabbed her arms as she almost stumbled over. "C'mon. Let's get you home."  
  
Spike tentatively slipped an arm around her waist, half-expecting her to pull away. To his surprise, however, she accepted his help without comment, and slowly they made their way out of the cemetery.  
  
They walked along the quiet streets in companionable silence. It was still dark, but with the slightest tinge of silver that hinted of the dawn soon to come. Buffy breathed in the cool night air deeply and watched her released breath cloud up in front of her. She stole a glance at Spike, his usual long stride shortened to keep pace with her hobbling, his head down, lost in thought. He'd been incredibly sweet to her the past few times she had seen him, the sarcastic hurtful comments absent. She looked away, his profile burned into her brain. God, he had amazing cheekbones. She'd kill to have those. And those long eyelashes. Why did men always have such long eyelashes? A complete waste. A full lower lip. That felt so good to suck on ... and eyes that promised you heaven and hell, pleasure and sin...  
  
Buffy pulled up with a start in front of her house. Someone had left the porch light on for her. She turned to Spike.  
  
"Thank you. For - helping me with the vampires. And helping me home."  
  
He gave her a half smile. "You're welcome. Any time."  
  
She turned to go up the porch steps.  
  
"Buffy?"  
  
She turned back.  
  
"Honestly. Any time. If you need company, or help ..."  
  
She nodded slowly. He meant it.   
  
Before she could change her mind, she blurted out:  
  
"Why don't you come over for dinner tonight? Dawn and Willow would like to see you ..." She took a breath. "Except Willow's making a vegetable stew, so maybe you wouldn't like that too much ... and maybe you've already got plans ... and -"  
  
"Buffy."  
  
She subsided.  
  
"I'd love to come. Vegetable stew sounds fine. I'll bring dessert. How's that sound?"  
  
She smiled. "That sounds good. Say, seven o'clock?"  
  
"Seven it is." He smiled, then swung around and disappeared into the silvering night. Buffy let herself into the house, and went upstairs to catch up on some sleep.  
  
TBC 


	6. Guess Who's Coming To Dinner?

CHAPTER SIX - GUESS WHO'S COMING TO DINNER?  
  
Buffy studied her reflection in the mirror, and gave a satisfied nod. Perfect. She looked good, but not overly dressed up. She checked her lipstick one final time, then turned to go downstairs. Spike would be here soon. She wasn't sure why she wanted to look good for him - after all, she didn't want to encourage him. Did she? No, she didn't. She still hadn't sorted out her feelings and thoughts after Willow's little talk the other day. But for some reason, she had made a special effort to look nice this evening.  
  
Downstairs, the scent of Willow's delicious stew made her tummy rumble. She inhaled deeply, and look around with pleasure. The room looked homely. The table was laid for four. The lamps were on, giving a welcome glow. Someone had put on some soft music. Dawn had spent most of the afternoon clearing up, plumping the sofa cushions and dusting.  
  
Buffy went into the kitchen and got a drink of water. Willow and Dawn were both upstairs getting ready. They were all excited about Spike coming over for the evening, Buffy realised. She shook her head. How on earth did that happen?  
  
She wandered back into the lounge room, bending over the goldfish bowl that had pride of place on a shelf. Willow and Dawn had christened them Harry and Hermione, although they didn't know which was which, or even if one was a boy and one a girl. Buffy hoped not. She didn't want hundreds of baby goldfish to take care of.  
  
At the ring of the doorbell, Buffy straightened, but before she could move there was a pounding down the stairs, and Dawn's shriek "I'll get it!"  
  
Buffy heard the door open, and Spike's voice greeting her sister. Then they were entering the lounge room, Dawn holding a big cake box and Spike carrying a couple of bottles of wine.  
  
"He brought a chocolate mud cheese cake!" Dawn told her sister, carrying the prize into the kitchen.  
  
"Sounds good," Buffy murmured. She turned to Spike, who was standing in the middle of the room watching her.  
  
"How's the ankle?" he asked.  
  
"Fine. Good as new." She gestured to the couch. "Grab a seat. Make yourself comfortable."  
  
He set down the bottles and lowered himself on the couch. She perched on an armchair, feeling unaccountably shy. Fortunately, Dawn returned from the kitchen and launched into conversation, telling Spike about her classes at school. When Willow entered the room, Spike got to his feet, and Buffy watched in bemusement as the two greeted each other with a kiss on the cheek.   
  
The evening continued to be an eye-opening experience. Dawn and Willow seemed to find it easy to treat Spike as any normal guest, chatting away over dinner, cracking jokes and enjoying the company.   
  
Buffy knew that it wasn't just her Slayer senses that refused to let her forget that Spike was a vampire. Everything she had done, trained for, been told for the past six years kept reminding her that this was a vampire, a demon that she had been told over and over again must be killed. Her body may have forgotten that in recent months, but her brain had never lost sight of that fact.  
  
She studied Spike as they sat at the dinner table, enjoying Willow's vegetable stew and a glass of excellent red wine. He really did seem to be having a good time, tucking in to the food and taking part in the general conversation. Buffy wondered for the first time if he had been lonely in recent years. After all, he had spent a century with Drusilla, Angel and Darla. Then, thanks to the Initiative, he had become persona non grata with most demons as well as humans. It must have been hard ... Buffy shook her head in bemusement. Was she really feeling sorry for Spike?  
  
They finished their meal and moved over to the television, putting on a video and sitting back to enjoy. Until Dawn sat up and said to Spike:  
  
"What was it really like, in those days?" She gestured to the screen, where Dame Judi Dench as Queen Elizabeth I was enjoying a play.  
  
Spike chuckled. "I don't know, pet. It's a bit before my time."  
  
"Oh." Dawn considered for moment. "When did you become a vampire?"  
  
He gave a soft laugh. He had known that question was coming. Usually he would have been offended to be asked, but he realised that this was a good opportunity to get Buffy to see him differently. "1880s. Time of Queen Victoria. Height of the British Empire. London had it all, including an innocent young man called William, and a vampire called Drusilla."  
  
Willow frowned. "I thought Angel was your sire?"  
  
Spike shook his head. "Drusilla sired me, strictly speaking. But Angel was the one who taught me. He was the leader of the gang, the head honcho. He was the one I wanted to impress. Everyone knew about Angel and Darla. It was an honour, being part of their family."  
  
"So what's it like, becoming a vampire?" Dawn asked.  
  
"Dawn!" Buffy couldn't help herself. This seemed so - personal. "I don't know if we should be asking these questions ..."  
  
"S'ok. I don't mind," Spike said. He considered for a moment. "I don't really know how to describe it. I've never tried before." He paused and thought. "In some ways, I didn't feel like I had changed. I still had the same thoughts. I still remembered everything. But there was this feeling of - power. Immense power. And such superiority. Suddenly, you know you're going to live forever. You know that there is nothing that can kill you - unless you happen to walk into a pointy stick. All those humans running around - they seem so stupid and weak. You remember when you used to have the same fears and concerns - buying food, paying rent, going to work, wearing the right clothes - and it seems so petty and so stupid. They're like ants, running around aimlessly ..."  
  
He stopped speaking for a minute. "Like I said, it's a surge of power - physical and mental. You're so isolated from mankind, that you stop thinking about them as important any more. That's why it's so easy to kill them ... it just doesn't matter any more. They're going to die sooner or later anyway ..."  
  
He raised his eyes to meet Buffy's. "I suppose that's the way that you're trained to think about demons. Keep isolated from them. Don't think of them as living, or important. They're just there to be killed."  
  
Buffy swallowed. She didn't want to think about what he was saying. She tore her eyes away.  
  
"But now ..." his voice was soft, and it seemed as though he was talking just to her. "Now I can't think like that anymore. Because of the chip, because I've been dealing with all of you for so long now - I can't think of humans as just food anymore. They've become real again."  
  
There was silence for a minute. Buffy sought desperately for something to say. Something to break the spell  
  
"Well. You must hate that," she said sharply. More sharply than she intended. "Don't vampires hate to be reminded of their humanity? After all, Angel did ..."  
  
He smiled faintly. "Yes, love, but I'm not Angel. I may have wanted to be just like him once upon a time, but not anytime recently." The smile faded and his expression became serious. "I've always done things differently to Angel. Right from the beginning. I was a real disappointment to him. He had this thing about families and friends. Wanted to destroy them. Wanted me to destroy mine. I didn't see the point. I wanted to kill my enemies. Everyone who had made me feel small, worthless, stupid. I went a bit mad with it. We had to leave London pretty quickly." He chuckled. "Angel wasn't happy 'bout that."  
  
"So - you didn't kill your family?" Dawn asked in a small voice.  
  
"No." He shook his head. "Killed no family. Killed no friends. Of course, family was just me and my mum by that point anyway. But I didn't kill her. Told myself at the time that I had better things to do, but I wonder - now - if I just didn't want to." He stopped talking, but the three faces continued to look at him expectantly, so he continued.  
  
"We were so close. My father had died about ten years before. So it was just the two of us. Father had been a school teacher, at a very good school, so I had been able to become a student there as well, although we wouldn't have been able to afford it normally." His voice, his accent was changing unconsciously as he spoke. "When Father died, they let me stay on, and I then became a tutor to a young boy. Heir to some dukedom. Right stupid tosser, he was. But I didn't mind. I could stay in London and look after Mother, and the Duke had one of the best libraries in the kingdom. Every chance I got, I would sneak away and read ..." His voice trailed off.  
  
"What happened to your mother?" Willow's voice, this time.  
  
Spike shrugged. "I don't know. I never heard anything about her again. I think she had a sister up north somewhere - Lichfield, I think it was. She probably went to live with her."  
  
"We could find out," Willow said. "There's Internet sites - you can track your family tree. If you like?"  
  
Spike stared at her for a moment. "I don't know." The suggestion seemed to disturb him. "Maybe. I don't know."   
  
Willow reached across and patted his hand. "Think about it. If you want to, we could take a look. No big."   
  
Buffy felt as shaken as Spike looked. She took a big gulp of her wine, almost choking as she did so. What was going on? Why was Spike suddenly seeming - human? She didn't know how to deal with this ...  
  
Mumbling something about washing up, she got to her feet and went into the kitchen, filling the sink with hot suds. She stared down at the bubbles, feeling her thoughts whirling around in her head.  
  
Buffy remembered Spike talking about his past before, when she had asked him about Slayers. The Slayers he had killed. He hadn't revealed so much about himself that time, though. He had made it sound - different, too. Last time, he had sounded contemptuous of the human he had been. He had spoken about "William" as though it was someone he had seen in a movie once, not the person he had been. As a result, she had found it difficult to see "William" and "Spike" as the same person. Only on rare occasions had she found herself thinking of Spike as a human, rather than as a very human-like demon.  
  
Slowly, she swirled the water round in a saucepan. That's what he is, she reminded herself. A demon. One that could act very human sometimes. One that could, occasionally, do nice things. But still a demon.  
  
Even as she thought the words, she knew that she was fooling herself. That wasn't how she thought about Spike anymore. In recent weeks, without even realising it, her view of Spike had changed. Human, vampire, demon - it didn't really matter. He was just a person. Just Spike. That's all that mattered.  
  
She frowned at the thought. Was that really true? She didn't know any more, didn't trust her feelings or judgements. "I need to think about it," she whispered. Sleep on it, let her brain work it out on its own. Then, and only then, would she know what to do. She nodded silently to herself.  
  
*****  
  
The dark house was silent. At three o'clock in the morning, all the inhabitants were asleep, all the lights off in this house.  
  
No one was around to see three dark figures slip across the back lawn and climb smoothly up to the roof. There was no sound as a window was opened and two of the figures slipped inside. The waft of a vial under the nose of the sleeping girl didn't even make her stir, simply caused her to slip into an even deeper sleep ...  
  
As quickly and quietly as that, the Slayer was removed from her home and taken to the sterile rooms run by the Initiative below the ground.  
  
TBC 


	7. North by Northwest

CHAPTER SEVEN - NORTH BY NORTHWEST  
  
  
Buffy woke slowly, swimming up into consciousness. Her head felt heavy and stuffy. Surely she hadn't had that much red wine last night? She tried to raise a hand to her head, but her arm didn't seem to want to move.   
  
What the ...?  
  
She forced one eye to open, and scowled down at herself. Why were her arms fastened to the bed? And her legs? What was going on?  
  
As she looked around, her heart sunk. She recognised this place. She was back. Back in that mental institute that she believed had been a hallucination.   
  
It was real.  
  
****  
  
"I'm going to be really, really late!" shrieked Dawn, whirling round the kitchen like a miniature cyclone, collecting lunch, bag, books. "When do Xander and Anya get back? This bus-catching scene is getting old!"  
  
"They're back today, Dawnie," Willow said, smothering a smile at the mini-panic. "A little less with the noise-making, you'll wake Buffy. And you know she could do with the sleep."  
  
"Sorry," Dawn whispered theatrically. "Bye, Will. See you tonight." She rushed out the kitchen door, letting it slam shut behind her. Willow sighed and shook her head. If that didn't wake Buffy, then nothing would ...  
  
She cocked her head, waiting to hear footsteps from upstairs stumble into the bathroom. Nothing.   
  
That's strange.  
  
A frown gathered. What if something was wrong? You never know, on the Hellmouth. Always expect the worst, it usually happens. She listened a bit more. Still no footsteps. Maybe she would just go check ...  
  
Willow padded up the stairs and paused outside Buffy's door. She knocked softly, then again a bit harder. "Buffy? Is everything okay?"  
  
There was no answer. Beginning to feel scared, Willow pushed the door open. The bed was empty. And the window was open.  
  
The worst had happened.  
  
****  
  
"What's happening?" Buffy tried to keep her voice low, reasonable. When she felt like screaming. She had been strapped to the table for what felt like days, although she knew it was only hours. She had been unable to make the slightest headway breaking her bonds, and no-one had answered her calls.   
  
At long last, there had been a noise at the door that she could glimpse out of the corner of her eye, and someone had come in. A doctor. The same doctor she had seen before.   
  
"Buffy?" He had the concerned look on his face that she recognised. "How are you feeling?"  
  
"Well, let's see. I'm feeling like I'm strapped to a table." She took a deep breath. Now was really not the time to get sarcastic. "Doctor, could you please unstrap me?"  
  
He looked troubled. "I'm sorry, Buffy. I can't do that. Not after what happened the last time. You're a danger to yourself, and to those trying to help you."  
  
"What if I promise not to hurt anyone?"  
  
"Maybe soon, Buffy. Let's see how the new treatment is going." He proceeded to examine her, looking in her eyes with a light, checking her pulse and blood pressure, testing her reflexes, and continually consulting a chart at the end of the bed.  
  
"Well, not bad Buffy. Not bad at all." He smiled at her encouragingly. "It looks like the combination of the medication and the treatment is working. We should be able to keep you with us this time. No more escaping into your other world."  
  
He perched on a stool at the end of her bed, studying her for a few minutes before continuing. "Buffy, you have to learn to let go of your hallucinations. You'll never be well until you've accepted that they are just delusions. You aren't a 'Slayer'. There are no vampires, or demons. There's no magic. Do you understand? We're going to cure you."  
  
Without giving her a chance to say anything else, he exited the room, leaving her to her own thoughts.  
  
Buffy closed her eyes and thought about his words.  
  
This again she thought to herself. No Slayer. No vampires. No Dawn, no mystical key. No Xander, or Giles, or Willow, or Angel, or Anya. No Spike. I made them all up.  
  
Her thoughts froze. She couldn't accept it. There was no way she could ever have imagined someone like Spike. Irritating, deadly, sexy, thoughtful ... she knew she couldn't have invented him. She may have many talents, but an imagination that wild was not one of them.  
  
She closed her eyes and drew on an image of Spike. She wouldn't let them do this to her again. This time, she would be able to fight it. And she would go back where she belonged. Fighting the demons, in Sunnydale, with Willow and Xander. And Spike. By her side.  
  
****  
  
Willow pressed a hand against the pain in her side as she sprinted down the path in the cemetery to Spike's crypt. Her legs had brought her this way automatically after finding Buffy gone. She knew that there was no one else who would be able to help as well as Spike. She had to find him.  
  
Too distraught to knock, she burst through the door, her eyes adjusting to the darkness as she searched desperately for Spike.  
  
"Red! Bloody hell, thought you were the Slayer for a minute there." Spike sat up from where he had been stretched out on the sofa, rubbing a hand through his tousled hair. He had obviously been sleeping, but Willow had no time to apologise.   
  
"Spike - it's Buffy. She's gone. Something's happened - someone must have taken her ..."  
  
Before she had even finished, Spike had leapt to his feet, pulling on a nearby shirt.  
  
"When?" His words were curt.  
  
"I - I don't know. Sometime last night. She went to bed as usual, but when I went in this morning, she wasn't there ... and the window was open." Willow began to feel a bit calmer. Spike would know what to do.  
  
"She wouldn't go without a fight ..."   
  
"It didn't look like it." Tears threatened to rise to the surface. "Whatever it was must have been really strong."  
  
Spike put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Don't fret, love. We'll find her. Everything will be fine."  
  
Willow took a deep breath. "What should we do?"  
  
"Let's go back to the house. See if we can find anything." Spike grabbed a blanket and covered himself, then began the sprint to Buffy's house.  
  
*****  
  
They searched the whole house and gardens, but found nothing to hint at what had happened to Buffy. Finally giving up, they sat in the kitchen, staring at each other over the counter, wondering what to do next.  
  
"As soon as it's dark, I'll head out, see if I pick up some news on the underground," said Spike.   
  
"Ok. Good idea. And I'll ..." Willow's voice trailed off. She had no idea what to do. She had never felt so helpless.  
  
Spike looked straight into her eyes. "Don't. Don't give up. We will find Buffy. We'll come up with a plan. And we'll bring her home."  
  
****  
  
"It's all going according to plan," McNamara informed Wilcox. "The drugs are neutralising her Slayer powers, just as our informant promised. Dr Turner did an excellent job during his inspection. She already seems to be accepting this as reality. It won't be long before she is completely under our control."  
  
"That's excellent new, Colonel. I will inform Mr Ward immediately."  
  
The two figures continued to study the girl on the video screen in front of them, watching impassively as she began to strain against her bonds, calling out.  
  
"Hello? Can anyone hear me? Please! Hello?"  
  
****  
  
"Hello? Anyone home?"  
  
Willow and Spike both jumped.  
  
"Xander!" Willow breathed. "Oh God! Xander and Anya! They're back." She jumped up and flew to the front door. Pasting a smile on her face, she greeted the newly-weds, ushering them into the living room.  
  
"So, um, how was the honeymoon? I mean, the place. Not the whole, honeymoon-y thing. How was the hotel."  
  
"It was wonderful," Anya told her. "We feel relaxed and invigorated, and ready to go back to work. Don't we, Xander?"  
  
"Absolutely," he agreed, hiding a grimace. "Can't wait to get back to the nine to five. So, Will. How's things in old Sunnydale? Is the Buffster at work?"  
  
"No. Something's happened, Xander. We don't know where Buffy is." Willow hated to ruin their homecoming, but they had to be told.  
  
"What? What do you mean, you don't know where she is? What happened?"  
  
"Has she run away?" asked Anya.  
  
"We don't think so." It was Spike that answered. He moved cautiously into the living room, aware that his presence wouldn't be welcomed by Xander.  
  
To his surprise, however, the other man didn't comment. Instead, he turned his gaze back to Willow.  
  
"Tell us everything."  
  
****  
  
"Everything is going to work out fine, Buffy," the doctor told her. "I know it's hard to recognise that everything you believe happened to you, isn't real. But you will feel much, much better as you come to realise the truth."  
  
Buffy allowed her gaze to rest calmly on the doctor. She wondered how long she had been strapped to this bed. It felt like days. Maybe it was days. She was unstrapped for 30 minutes, three times a day, so she could use a bedpan, eat some of the meagre food they provided, and try to work some of the kinks out of her body. Otherwise, she remained prone, strapped to the bed, aching from the lack of motion. Each day, she felt physically weaker, from lack of exercise and lack of food. Throughout the day, they came in, injected different drugs into her, strapped electrodes to her skull and gave her shock treatment. She knew that her Slayer strength was somehow being drained from her.  
  
But she knew that mentally, she was only getting stronger. No matter how many times they told her that she had been hallucinating, no matter how many drugs they pumped into her or electrodes they strapped to her, she managed to cling firm to the rock of reality that she had found somewhere deep inside her.  
  
However, she knew better than to let the doctor know that. She pretended to go along with what he said, pretended to be trying to get better. Eventually, an opportunity would arise that would allow her to escape. She just hoped that she still had the strength to seize it.  
  
The doctor was finishing up. He moved to the door, opened it and stepped out. And Buffy required every ounce of her experience as a Slayer to keep her face and body still.  
  
Sam Finn was standing outside the door.  
  
She was in shadows, standing well back from the door. They probably thought that there was no way Buffy could have seen her. But Buffy knew she wasn't mistaken.  
  
What is she doing here? What is going on?  
  
Taking a deep breath, Buffy closed her eyes. She expelled all thoughts from her mind, and kept her breathing calm and deep. Rhythmic. Sam is here. Did that mean Riley is here? Probably. So does that mean I'm being held by the military? Why? Unless ...  
  
It sounds a lot like the Initiative ...  
  
Buffy pondered that thought for a moment, then dismissed it. There was no point speculating. She would have to wait for more facts.   
  
Slowing her breathing further, she imagined walking through the desert. Up a path. Until there, in front of her, she could see the bonfire, with a dark shape hovering behind it. The First Slayer ...  
  
The warmth, the knowledge, flowed through her veins, and she slept, protected.  
  
TBC 


	8. Long Day's Journey Into NIght

CHAPTER EIGHT - LONG DAY'S JOURNEY INTO NIGHT  
  
"It's been three weeks!" cried Willow. "And we don't know anything."  
  
They were all gathered in the Summers' living room - Willow, Dawn, Xander, Anya and Tara. Only Spike was absent, having gone out to patrol. Since Buffy's disappearance, they had all been virtually living there, spending every free moment trying to find some trace of where Buffy had gone. Dawn was sleeping in Buffy's bed, Spike in Dawn's. Tara was using a cot set up in Buffy's room to keep Dawn company, and Xander and Anya only left to work and to sleep for a few hours.  
  
At first Xander had looked askance at the vampire's presence, but over the weeks he had come to accept Spike as an integral part of the team. Spike was out every night from sunset to sunrise, patrolling and looking for information. His dedication to finding Buffy, and looking after Dawn, was unmistakable.  
  
The silence that followed Willow's statement was interrupted by the bang of the front door. Everyone turned in surprise as Spike came in.  
  
"Spike? What's happened? You're back early." Dawn helped the vampire into a seat. He seemed dazed and confused.  
  
"I don't know what happened," he mumbled, running his fingers through his hair so that it fell across his forehead in soft curls. "Something strange ..."  
  
"What? Tell us." Anya demanded.  
  
"I saw this vampire, making his way through a cemetery. He looked like he was up to something, so I followed him for a bit, then jumped. But ... it made my chip go off." He rubbed his fingers against his temples, remembering.  
  
"Your chip went off?" Willow looked bewildered.  
  
"Are you sure it was a vampire?" Xander asked  
  
"I think I would recognise a vampire, mate," Spike replied. "This was definitely one of the undead. And then ... and then he tried to attack me. And it looked as though - a chip went off in his head too."  
  
There was a pause.  
  
"Another vampire with a chip?" Tara repeated, just to make sure.  
  
"That's what it looked like," Spike said. He was still rubbing his temples, and a thoughtful expression had come over his face.  
  
"Who would be putting chips into vampires?" Anya asked the room in general.  
  
"I thought that was just the Initiative's idea of fun and games," Xander agreed.  
  
"It was." Spike sat up straight. "You know, I've just thought of something else that's been bugging me. Captain Cardboard and the missus came to town because of those bloody eggs, right? Well, my mate, the one who asked me to look after them - I've not heard from him since. That's not like him. It makes me wonder ..."  
  
"Wonder what?" Dawn asked. She perched on the arm of Spike's chair.  
  
"Whether there was something else going on. Do we know where they were heading off to next?"  
  
"Nepal, I think," Willow volunteered, raising her hand slightly before catching herself and lowering it again. "I haven't had an email from Sam in a while, but I'm pretty sure that's where they said they were."  
  
"You've been emailing her?" Spike asked. "Look, I know next to nothing about computers, but is there any way you can find out if she's really emailing from Nepal?"  
  
"You think that Sam and Riley are involved in the Buffy walkabout?" Xander asked sceptically.  
  
"I don't know." Spike sighed in frustration. "I don't bloody know. But at least it's a thought. Which is more than we had before."  
  
Willow stood up. "Maybe I could come up with a program that I could send in an email to Sam. Like a virus. There's sites all over the web that tell you how to write them. Something that would allow me to hack into her computer. Then maybe we could find out ..."  
  
Willow was gone, bounding up the stairs to get to her laptop and try out the newest, the only, theory, as quickly as possible.  
  
****  
  
"Make it quick," the orderly instructed Buffy as she struggled to sit up. "You've got 30 minutes."  
  
He left her alone as she managed to get herself upright and swing her legs over the edge of the bed. She felt as though she was wasting away. A glance at her arms and legs told her that she was.  
  
How much longer can I go on? she wondered, then stopped herself. For as long as it takes, was the answer.  
  
She quickly used the bedpan, grateful that they gave her some privacy to do this, although she didn't doubt that the room was under video surveillance. Then she wolfed down the thin soup that had been provided. It wasn't nearly enough for sustenance, but then she wasn't all that hungry nowadays. Lying flat on your back all day will do that to a girl, she supposed.  
  
Finally, she began to stretch, getting the blood flowing and the muscles working, before they came to strap her up again. She closed her eyes, drawing on her visions of the First Slayer to help keep her strong, grounded.  
  
Then she felt it.  
  
Somehow, she had felt a trickle of her old Slayer strength, her old power, flood through her as she stretched out her hamstring. She concentrated hard. Yes, if she tried hard enough, thought about the First Slayer and her meeting with her in the desert, she could feel the power entering her. But she couldn't maintain it ...  
  
She opened her eyes and fought not to let a smile cross her face. It would be enough. When the moment came, she would be able to draw on that strength to help her escape.  
  
It would work.  
  
****  
  
"It should work," said Willow. "It's a pretty basic program, and her antivirus protection shouldn't pick it up. Once Sam opens the email, the program will activate and store a Trojan on her system, although she won't even know it. It should allow me to access her computer."  
  
"So we just have to hope she checks her email regularly," Anya said. Willow shot her a look, then turned back to the computer.   
  
"Come on, Sam," she muttered under her breath.  
  
Spike was heating a mug of blood in the kitchen when Xander entered and hesitated. Although they could now tolerate each other's company, they didn't actively seek it out, and Spike expected Xander to make a quick exit. To his surprise, however, Xander chose instead to sit down and wait for Spike to get his blood, before speaking.  
  
"I need to say something to you," he began, and Spike cocked an eyebrow before taking a stool opposite him.  
  
"Go on."  
  
"Okay. I will." Xander cleared his throat and studied his hands, resting on the counter between them, then raise his eyes to meet Spike's. "I'm not going to pretend to you that I like the idea of having a vampire around all the time. I didn't like it with Angel. I don't like vampires. There's no grey area for me here. But -" Xander paused for a moment before continuing. "I've been watching you since Buffy disappeared and - I do believe that you truly care. That you want to help. And for the right reasons, not just to - score points.  
  
"So I guess I just wanted to tell you that. From now on, as far as I'm concerned - the scoresheet is wiped clean. I'm willing to try and forget about everything that's happened in the past, and just concentrate on what you're doing now. If that means anything to you."  
  
Spike was amazed. He would never have thought the boy was capable of something like this. He was also touched. And surprised to find that it meant a lot to him, to be accepted like this by one of Buffy's dearest friends.  
  
"Thanks, mate," he replied eventually.  
  
"Just tell me one thing," Xander said. "If you could - would you feed from a human?"  
  
Spike was quiet for a moment. "I don't think I could," he admitted finally. "But there's a part of me feels ashamed to confess it." He raised his head and met Xander's eyes challengingly, daring the boy to condemn him.  
  
Xander nodded slowly. "I wouldn't have believed you if you'd said otherwise," he said.  
  
Spike chuckled at that.  
  
Their companionable truce was interrupted by a scream from upstairs. Both jumped to their feet immediately.  
  
"We did it! We're in!" It was Willow's voice.  
  
Xander and Spike exchanged a glance, then raced for the stairs.  
  
The girls were all crammed onto Willow's large bed, elbowing each other for a look at the computer screen.  
  
"What have you got, Will?" Xander asked, out of breath from his battle up the stairs with Spike.  
  
"I'm in Sam's email account. And her computer is linked up to a network - I can access the whole thing," Willow said, fingers tapping on her keyboard. "Just give me a minute to find the main drive, and I'll be able to work out exactly ..."  
  
Her voice trailed off as menus flashed up on the laptop in response to her commands.  
  
"My God ..." she breathed.  
  
"Um, Willow?" Xander prompted.  
  
She looked up, her eyes huge. "It looks like you were right, Spike. Sam and Riley are involved in something. It looks like it's the Initiative Mark 2.  
  
"And they've got Buffy."  
  
TBC 


	9. To Catch A Thief

CHAPTER NINE - TO CATCH A THIEF  
  
Spike lay still, staring at the ceiling above him in the darkness. They had agreed to give Willow a couple of hours to find out as much as possible from the Initiative's computer files, before coming up with a plan. She had insisted that they all spend the time resting, so they would be as alert as possible when the time came to take action. They had all done as they were told, but Spike was finding it impossible to rest.  
  
They were almost there. They had found Buffy. Now they could actually do something. Put an end to this hell of inaction. He wondered what the bastards had done to her.   
  
His sharpened hearing picked up noises from the kitchen. Was Willow done already? In a single movement, he slipped off his bed and made his way downstairs. No, not Willow. It was Tara in the kitchen, pulling food out of the fridge. She jumped when Spike silently appeared in the doorway, then relaxed and smiled sheepishly.  
  
"I couldn't sleep," she said softly. "I thought I'd make some soup, so we could all have something to eat before we head out." She held up a stick of celery.  
  
"I couldn't sleep either," he replied in the same quiet tones.  
  
"Me either." Dawn stood behind him, clutching Mr Gordo. "And I'm pretty sure Anya and Xander are awake too."  
  
"Oh well," said Tara, "Resting was a good idea. Since you're here, Dawnie, you can peel some potatoes for me."  
  
"What's going on?" All three turned guiltily to the door at the sound of Willow's voice.  
  
"We - we couldn't sleep," Dawn replied.  
  
Willow moved into the kitchen, grabbing a celery stick to munch on. "Ooh, yummy. Are you making your vegetable soup?"  
  
"Willow." Tara's voice was firm. "What have you found? Have you finished already?"  
  
"Yes." Willow's voice was halting. "Dawnie, why don't you get Xander and Anya? I might as well tell you all at once."  
  
****  
  
Spike could feel a red rage, the hot blood, rising in him, and it took a conscious effort to tamp it back down. He caught Xander's eyes and managed a tight smile, letting the other know that he had it under control.  
  
Those bastards. I'll kill them for hurting Buffy. If they've damaged her ...  
  
He couldn't finish the thought. No, Buffy would be fine. She was strong. She would be able to fight against this.  
  
He refused to let himself think of an alternative - Buffy unhinged, allowing them to play with her mind. Weakened. Manipulated. Destroyed.  
  
Once again the rage threatened him, and he stood abruptly, seeking movement to help maintain his control.  
  
"How do we get in?" he asked brusquely.  
  
'The only entrance I can find on the map is by the caves. But it's heavily guarded," Willow said.  
  
"Are you sure there's nowhere else we can get in?" Dawn asked.  
  
Willow shook her head. "There only seems to be one entrance. I suppose there must be more, but I have no idea where they could be."  
  
"Then we go in by that entrance," Spike said.   
  
"Okey dokey," said Xander. "So I have a little question. How the hell do we do that?"  
  
"We'll have to fake it," Spike replied. "Willow, is there any other useful information you found?"  
  
"Oh, oh!" she cried excitedly. "I think so! They do a nightly patrol ... let me go check!"  
  
****  
  
"... through the checkpoint, then we leave the van and make a run for this control room here." Spike tapped a finger on the map print-out. The Scoobies were all gathered round the dining-room table, going through the plan. "Once we're there, Willow will jam any alarms or surveillance equipment, and locate exactly where Buffy is being kept. We get her, and get the hell out."  
  
He paused and looked around the table. Willow, Tara, Dawn, Xander, Anya. They all nodded, serious looks on their faces. It wasn't a team he would have chosen, that's for sure. But somehow, he knew that they would do whatever it took to get the job done. Each one was willing to put their lives on the line to save Buffy. If anyone could do it, it was this motley crew of ex-demons, witches, and humans. And one handicapped vampire.  
  
He gave a small smile. "Right then. Let's go."  
  
****  
  
"Go, go, go!"  
  
The voice in his earpiece was authoritative, and Lieutenant Hughes obeyed instantly. Sensing rather than seeing Santos at his side, he slipped from the back of the van and moved through the shadows of the cemetery. He could see his prey now, a peroxide blonde vampire, dressed in leather, strolling casually past the gravestones. He must have heard something, because he turned in their direction, game face on. Hughes still wasn't used to the sight, but he didn't falter as he moved forward, in a perfect pincer movement with Santos.  
  
"Hello, gentlemen," the vampire smirked. "I've been expecting you."  
  
Hughes raised his gun, ready to fire the laser, but was distracted by a movement to his right. What was that? The system had only picked up one vampire in this area ... His head moved slightly to the right, and that was the last thing he knew before something heavy landed on the back of his head, and he pitched forward into darkness ...  
  
"Good shot, Dawnie," Willow panted, standing over the other soldier boy. Dawn looked up proudly, brandishing her baseball bat.  
  
As Spike joined them, they dragged the two soldiers into the shadows, stripping off their uniforms and tying and gagging them securely. All three whirled as they heard a noise behind them, but it was just Tara, running up to join them.  
  
"We got the van," she said, out of breath. "There was just the one doctor. And also a medical bag ..."  
  
She held up a syringe triumphantly. "Anaesthetic. Well, that's what it said on the label. It should keep them out cold for the rest of the night, don't you think?"  
  
She injected both the soldiers as Xander and Anya appeared, dragging the doctor. Anya was already dressed in the medical outfit, and Xander and Tara quickly pulled on the two army uniforms. Even with her hair tucked up under a hat, Tara still looked far too feminine, but there was little they could do about that, Spike decided. As long as Xander did all the talking, they should be okay.  
  
They all went back to the van, Xander, Anya and Tara getting into the front, and Spike, Dawn and Willow arranging themselves on the stretchers in the back. Spike looked across at the other two girls. They were dressed to the nines in some of Buffy's favourite leather outfits, and had gone completely mad with the eyeliner and dark lipstick, having decided that this was the way that vampires looked. He had to admit, they were pretty authentic. It was terrifying how grown-up Dawn looked, all of a sudden ...  
  
With a lurch, they were away, Xander taking a few minutes to get used to driving the van. He made his way confidently to the entrance of the Initiative's headquarters, having studied the route several times before leaving the house. He realised that there was a clear track leading through the woods towards the cave.  
  
"How come no-one has noticed this before?" he wondered out loud.  
  
"People in Sunnydale are pretty good at turning a blind eye," Anya said. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. She looked really sexy, dressed up in that white coat. Maybe he should get her one of those little nurse's outfits ...  
  
Concentrate, Xander, he berated himself. This is it. We're off to save Buffy.  
  
****  
  
Buffy screamed in pain as the electricity surged through her body. At least, she tried to scream, but a leather wedge was forced between her teeth, so that she couldn't bite herself during the electric shock treatment. So nice of them to look after me, she had thought sarcastically when they had first done it. Now, it was no longer funny. Nothing, any more, was remotely funny.  
  
She was trying so hard to keep it together. But it was getting so difficult. It would be so easy just to slip away, to give in to it all. Then she would be at peace ...  
  
There is no peace.  
  
She didn't know where the voice came from, but it commanded her attention.  
  
Be strong. Be sure. You know what you must do.  
  
The shocks came again, but this time they didn't seem so bad. Something was numbing her, protecting her ...  
  
We are always here with you...  
  
A sense of warmth flooded through her.  
  
... all of us are here together. We will help you.  
  
She felt the tingle in her fingertips. Very slowly, strength began to seep into her.  
  
Each of us passes on a part of ourselves to the next. We are always here. We will always help.  
  
As if from outside herself, she sensed her friends, felt that they were close. That they were coming for her.  
  
We will always help...  
  
Without really being aware of it, Buffy realised that the medical staff were removing the electrodes from her, removing the leather strap, half-heartedly wiping the sweat from her face. She waited, motionless, until they had all left the room.  
  
Slowly, Buffy drew on all her strength; then, flexing her arms, she strained at the straps restraining her, until she felt them give.  
  
TBC 


	10. Apocalypse Now

CHAPTER TEN - APOCALYPSE NOW  
  
Dawn forced herself to keep completely still as she heard the van's door being opened. Try not to even breathe, she told herself.  
  
"Just the three?" she heard a strange male voice ask.  
  
"That's all we came across." It was Xander's voice. He sounded different. All military. He had slipped into the role of army guy easily. All of them, in fact, seemed to find it easy to act their roles, even Tara in her military guise. Well, their lives did depend on it. And so did Buffy's.  
  
The door slammed, and the van started to move again. She risked opening one eye, and saw Spike sitting up. Dawn did the same, as did Willow. They were ready when the van stopped and Tara hurried round to let them out.  
  
"Right then, Red," said Spike, slipping back into his authoritative role. "Which way now?"  
  
Unhesitatingly, Willow led them through a doorway and down a number of corridors. Spike heard the occasional footstep or voice from nearby, but none close enough to warrant alarm, and soon they were standing outside a sturdy metal door. Willow motioned toward it, and they all understood. The main surveillance room.  
  
Except for Xander, the Scoobies all pressed themselves against the wall. Checking they were hidden, Xander knocked loudly on the door. Almost immediately, it swung open, a young man in fatigues standing just inside.  
  
"Sergeant." Xander barked, stepping back slightly. "What, exactly, do you call that?"  
  
Accusingly, he pointed a little way down the corridor. The sergeant stepped out of the room, peering down the dim corridor.  
  
"Sir?" he said, but got no further as Anya slammed a club down on the back of his head.  
  
Quickly, Xander and Spike dragged him into the surveillance room. As they stripped off his uniform and tied and gagged him, Willow seated herself at the main computer terminal. As she began tapping on the keyboard, Tara came up behind her, resting a hand lightly on her shoulder.  
  
"Any problems?" she murmured.  
  
"I don't think so," Willow answered. "Here are the video files ... it's just a question of finding the right one, and replacing the current video feed ... here."  
  
The two were silent for a moment. On the screen in front of them was the video surveillance images of Buffy, lying on a bed in a sterile, medical room.  
  
"Will?"  
  
Xander's voice roused them, and Willow quickly replaced the live feed with a file video that showed exactly the same thing. She put it on a five minutes loop, checking that the surveillance would now show the same thing, Buffy lying still.  
  
"All done." She brought up a different file, something she hadn't seen before. "Just a minute ... I think I've found something interesting ..."  
  
There was silence in the room for a few minutes, bar the tapping on the keyboard. Finally Willow turned to the others, clearing her throat.  
  
"I didn't access these files before," she explained. "It's to do with the vampires. Why they're here, what the Initiative is doing with them."  
  
"Well?" Spike prodded, impatiently. He wanted to get Buffy out. That's what they were here for. As far as he was concerned, they could worry about the Initiative's shenanigans after that.  
  
Willow looked at him, now dressed in the uniform of the unconscious sergeant and standing stiffly by the door, the need for action evident in every line of his body. "You were right about the vampire with the chip, Spike. They've been capturing vampires, implanting chips in them exactly the same as yours, so they can't hurt humans but can harm and kill other demons. It looks like they're still trying to raise an army to fight demons, but in a slightly different way."  
  
They all digested this. "They want to get these chipped vampires to fight on their side?" Xander asked, wanting to be clear. "Against other vampires and demons?"  
  
"That's what it looks like," Willow answered. "They've got about 200 vampires locked up in here, chipped. But from what I can see, it hasn't been too successful so far. Guess vampires aren't the most predictable."  
  
Xander snorted. "Could have told them that."  
  
"Red, this is very interesting and all, but can it wait until we've got Buffy out of here?" Spike asked, his impatience clear.  
  
"There's something else," Willow said slowly. "The chips in the vampires ... they can be modified. There's a report here - they modified yours, Spike. So that you're able to hurt Buffy without the chip going off."  
  
"So that's why ..." Tara breathed, and Willow looked at her sharply.   
  
"You knew?" Willow asked, and Tara nodded.   
  
"She asked me to find out why - she thought that maybe she had come back wrong ..." Tara explained haltingly.  
  
Willow opened her mouth to ask another question, but changed her mind. "The thing is, I can alter Spike's chip from this computer. Change the readings, just like they did before. Make it so he can't hurt Buffy again. Make it so he can't hurt demons. Whatever ..."  
  
"Make it so that it doesn't work at all?" Dawn interrupted, and they all turned to look at her.  
  
"Make it so that it doesn't work at all," Willow agreed, her eyes turning to Spike.  
  
Spike stood frozen. He couldn't ask them ... it would have to be up to them. To decide if they would trust him - or not. For what felt like centuries, he stood there, waiting for his fate to be decided.  
  
Finally, Xander spoke up. "Do it, Will. Deactivate the chip, or whatever you want to call it."  
  
Spike's mouth almost fell open in shock. Xander was the last person he had expected to support him. The others seemed almost as stunned.  
  
"What?" Xander spread his hands as he registered the surprised looks. "Either he goes back to being a killer, and we stake him, or he's really changed and will keep with the goodness and light. Whichever it is, we need to know. We can't just go on relying on the chip."  
  
"Xander has a good point," Anya said, and Tara nodded slowly, her enormous eyes flicking between Willow and Spike.  
  
"Please, Willow," Dawn begged. "I know Spike won't hurt anyone. We have to give him a chance."  
  
Willow looked undecided. Images flashed through her mind - Spike abducting her and Xander so she could perform a spell for him to get Drusilla back; Spike lunging at her in her dorm room, when he had first got the chip. Then she remembered watching Spike rush up Glory's platform to rescue Dawn, regardless of his own safety; and the way he had looked after Dawn last summer. And the Spike she had come to know so well in the past few weeks ...  
  
With a quick nod, she turned to the computer. After a few minutes, she looked back up. "It's done."  
  
Spike tilted his head, looking at her. "Thank you."  
  
Willow gave him a half-smile. "I'm going to create a diversion for you, Spike. I'll release the locks on the cages of the vampires while you go find Buffy. It should keep the soldier boys distracted for a little while."  
  
"Fine." Spike's voice was tight with tension, his gaze turned inwards as he prepared for the final stage. He gave a quick look round the room, them moved towards the door.  
  
"Spike?" Dawn stopped him before he got there. He watched as she came over to him. "Good luck." She gave him a brief hug, then stepped back. He nodded, touched her cheek, and left the room.  
  
****  
  
They were close.  
  
Buffy could sense her friends strongly now. They would be here soon. She breathed deeply, summoning all her strength. She could still feel the Slayer strength flowing strongly through her veins, but her weakened, starved body was holding her back. She had planned to rest for a few minutes to gather as much strength as she could, but now she knew help was at hand.   
  
Behind her closed eyelids, in the darkness of her mind, she could see a white-hot light like a tiny sun growing stronger and stronger ....  
  
They were here.  
  
She opened her eyes and looked towards the door. It swung open just as she had expected.  
  
"Spike." She smiled faintly. She had known it would be him.  
  
"Buffy." He crossed the room in a few strides, his gaze intense. Surprised to find the straps broken, he helped her sit up. "Are you ... are you all right?"  
  
Buffy took a deep breath. "I feel - weak. But I'll be fine." She closed her eyes to let a wave of dizziness pass over her, fighting to keep from blacking out from the sudden rush of blood from her head.  
  
Spike watched her patiently, waiting for her to be ready. She looked - he ran his eyes over her quickly. God, she looked like hell. Her hair was dirty and matted, her eyes hollow, her skin clammy and colourless. But the set of her jaw told him that the Slayer was still home. And ready to fight.  
  
****  
  
The fighting on the lower floors was already beginning to draw to a close as Riley reached the compound. Crippled by the chip, the vampires had been unable to fight back. The soldiers had herded most of them back into the cages, although the dust in the air and on the floor bore testimony to a number of casualties.   
  
Riley stopped by an engineer at a computer terminal trying to reinstall the restraints on the cages. "What happened," he asked tersely.  
  
The engineer shrugged. "I don't know. They've just - been turned off. It won't take long to bring them back online..."  
  
Riley stood back, thoughts racing through his brain. Just turned off? Why would someone do that? Who would do that?  
  
As if by instinct, an answer came to him. "The Scoobies."  
  
Without another word, he turned and ran back. Back to the room where Buffy was being held.  
  
TBC 


	11. All This and Heaven Too

CHAPTER ELEVEN - ALL THIS AND HEAVEN TOO  
  
Riley skidded round a corner, then screeched to a halt.  
  
He had been right.  
  
Before him, Buffy and that vampire - Spike - were slowly making their way down the corridor. Deliberately, Riley raised his rifle and drew back the safety. At the noise, the two figures froze, then turned to face him.  
  
There was silence in the corridor for a few minutes, then Buffy spoke, moving forward a couple of steps towards him.  
  
"Riley. How *could* you?"  
  
The sadness in her voice almost got to him. He forced the sudden surge of guilt away.  
  
"It's for the best, Buffy. Surely you can see that. We didn't want to hurt you. But the most important thing is being able to stop the subterraneans."  
  
"Sending Buffy mad is for the best?" Now Spike spoke up. "What kind of sick twisted world do you live in, mate?"  
  
Riley chuckled humourlessly. "You can talk. Mate."  
  
"I've never done anything like this," Spike defended. "My fights have always been fair. No messing with minds."  
  
"You're a real saint," Riley told him, the faintest of sneers in his voice. He peered down the sights of his rifle, checking that the laser was at full power. "Unfortunately, I'm going to have to kill you now."  
  
"Don't do this, Riley." Buffy moved forward, placing herself between Spike and Riley. "Please. You know that it's wrong."  
  
"Buffy, step aside please." Riley's voice was devoid of emotion.  
  
Gently, Spike reached out and took Buffy's hand, pulling her to one side. "I can handle this, pet," he said softly. He looked up at Riley, smirking, and his voice took on a taunting quality that Buffy hadn't heard in a long time. One that she had missed. "Do we really need weapons for this?"  
  
Buffy almost smiled, hearing those familiar words. "It makes me feel all manly," she breathed, knowing that Spike had heard her when the corner of his mouth quirked up. He kept his eyes on Riley, though. Waiting for a response. Ready for an attack.  
  
Riley considered him for a moment, then slowly lowered his gun. "I guess not. It'll be much more satisfying to kill you with my hands." He laid the gun on the floor then moved softly towards Spike.  
  
Buffy began to draw on what was left of her strength, still feeling weak from her earlier efforts. Spike might be able to hold Riley off for a while, she told herself, but he wouldn't be able to hurt him. At some point, she would need to step in.  
  
The two men were almost nose to nose.   
  
"So, why don't you take your best shot," Riley taunted. "Might as well let you get one in, before I rip you apart."  
  
"Thanks, mate," Spike said casually. He looked Riley up and down. "Let's see. How about ..."  
  
With lightening speed, his arm shot forward, catching Riley in the stomach. His other fist connected with Riley's jaw, jerking the man backwards. Swiftly, he kicked out and swept Riley's legs out from under him. With a thud, Riley hit the floor, winded.  
  
Spike breathed in deeply, unable to stop a grin spreading across his face. "That was fun." He noticed Buffy staring at him in astonishment. "Oh, didn't I mention, love? Red found a way to disable the chip. Good of her, wasn't it?"  
  
At his words, Riley lunged out on his stomach to reach his gun, and Buffy quickly kicked it up and caught it, levelling it on Riley.   
  
"Hold it there, soldier-boy," she said. "I don't want to have to hurt you." She considered her own words for a second, then flashed a tight smile. "Actually, I'd love to hurt you. But I was taught to know better, so I'll just settle for threatening you."  
  
She gestured him back down the corridor, into the room she had been held prisoner. "Why don't you lie down and have a rest?" she suggested. He did as he was told, and Spike used the restraints to tie him to the bed.  
  
As the final knot was finished, Buffy's knees suddenly sagged. Quickly, Spike caught her to him, stopping the gun from hitting the floor.  
  
"Sorry," she mumbled, trying to laugh. "A bit too much excitement for one day, I think."  
  
He smiled down at her, lifting her up into his arms. "Let's get you home then," he suggested, kicking the door closed and starting down the corridor.  
  
"Yes please," Buffy sighed, resting her head against his shoulder. "Home."  
  
****  
  
"I'm so glad you're home, Buffy," Dawn said for the one hundredth time.  
  
Buffy laughed and let her head rest against her sister's. Home, bathed, fed, and tucked up in bed, surrounded by her friends who had just finished filling her in on everything that had happened. Everyone was still on a high, excitedly interrupting each other to tell their part of the story. Dawn was snuggled in bed with Buffy, occasionally reaching out to touch her hand as though checking that she was real.  
  
Willow had just finished telling them how she had found that some of the Initiative's records had been doctored before being sent through to the decision-makers, so that it seemed that the project was more successful than it was.  
  
"That shouldn't be a problem any more, though," she said smugly. "I made sure that some of the more damning reports made their way to the right hands. The Initiative won't be initiating anything ever again!"  
  
"Good one, Will," Buffy murmured. "Hey, I've got a research project for you, too. You might want to get in touch with Giles . I think that the doctors were using the same drugs on me that the Council of Watchers likes to use on Slayers when they reach their eighteenth birthday. Only, something happened. It didn't work properly." She frowned, trying to explain how she felt. "It was almost like, when we did that spell to kill Adam. I could still feel the strength, the power. As though what makes me a Slayer has become so strong that those drugs couldn't affect it ..." She shook her head in frustration. "I can't explain it properly. But it could be worth finding out if any other Slayers experienced the same thing. Maybe, as I get older, my Slayerness gets - more slayer-ee."  
  
"I'll contact Giles," Willow said. "Maybe there are other Slayers he can research. It would be good to know more."  
  
Suddenly, a huge yawn almost cracked Buffy's face open, and Tara immediately stood up.  
  
"I think we should leave Buffy to get some sleep," she said, herding everyone out the door. Dawn reluctantly got up too.   
  
"Is there anything else you need, Buffy?" she asked.  
  
Buffy shook her head, smiling. "I'm fine. Thank you, everybody."  
  
Calling goodnights, the gang filed out the door. Spike, who had been quietly leaning against the wall by the window, almost forgotten by the others, lingered so that he was last. He approached the bed, squatting down by her side.  
  
"Are you sure you're all right, Buffy?" he asked. Not contributing to the conversation, his eyes hadn't left Buffy's face since they got back, and he was sure that something was troubling her.  
  
She released her breath on a sigh, summoning a smile. "I can't quite believe I'm home. I keep - waiting to wake up - and hoping desperately that I don't."  
  
Without quite meaning to, he took her hand. "You are home. You won't be waking up to anything except your own bed, and your friends and your sister ..."  
  
She squeezed his hand. "I know. I just feel ..." She shook her head in frustration. "I'm not very good at this. I don't find it very easy to tell people my feelings."  
  
"You know you can tell me anything. Ask me anything. Just tell me, Buffy."  
  
She struggled to find the words. "I just felt ... so alone. So scared, for a little while. Betrayed, by Riley. I kept telling myself that I would get out of there, but I think a little part of me never really believed it. And then, this strange power, the Slayer strength - I didn't really know what was happening. I couldn't tell anyone. I didn't know if I ever would be able to tell anyone. It was - lonely."  
  
She took a deep breath, unable to meet his eyes, and forced herself to continue. "Could you - stay here tonight? I don't want to be alone again."  
  
His response was immediate, instinctive. He stood and kicked off his boots, pulling his shirt over his head. Buffy snuggled down into her bed, making room for him, and watched as he flicked off the light. Then she felt the mattress sink as he slid into bed beside her. Without thinking, she moved into him, resting her head on his chest and feeling his arms wrap around her. Closing her eyes, she let the tension drain from her, and felt the first of the tears slide down her cheek.  
  
Spike said nothing, just holding her close as she silently sobbed out the terror of the past few weeks. Eventually her shuddering stopped, her breathing slowed, and he knew that she was asleep. Finally, he let his own eyes close, and allowed himself to drift into slumber.  
  
****  
  
Buffy opened her eyes, the side of her face feeling numb. She took in her bearings and realised she was in bed, still enclosed in Spike's arms, and that it was morning. It seemed that they hadn't moved all night, her cheek still pressed into the hardness of his chest.   
  
Gently, she moved away, trying not to disturb Spike, but his eyelashes fluttered at her movement, and then his eyes opened.  
  
"Buffy," he said softly, looking at her with brilliant blue eyes that seemed strangely vulnerable. She realised that he was waiting for her to say something so he could pick up his cue, so he would know how she wanted him to behave now that the unthinkable had happened, that he had spent the night in her bed.  
  
"Morning," she said with a slow smile, letting him know that he was welcome there. "How did you sleep?"  
  
He seemed to relax, shifting in the bed to stretch slightly. "Like the dead," he deadpanned, glancing at her from the corner of his eyes to catch her reaction.  
  
She chuckled. "Me too."  
  
He grinned at her, delighted by her response, and her breath caught.  
  
"Spike ..." She reached out and traced a shaking finger against his smile. "Thank you - thank you ... for saving me. The thought of you - kept me sane." Her fingers brushed against his brow, down his cheekbone. She swallowed. "Every night, Spike - every night you saved me ..."  
  
His eyes darkened at her words and he caught her fingers, pressing her palm against his mouth, brushing his lips softly against her skin. "Thank you, Buffy." Their eyes caught and held, and Buffy felt a warmth fill her. A warmth that told her she was loved, adored, protected, safe. A smile of pure happiness spread across her face, and was answered by one on the face opposite her.  
  
TBC 


	12. Epilogue

EPILOGUE  
  
  
"About time," Xander grumbled as Spike approached the table with a tray full of drinks. "What happened, bleach boy, did they need to check your proof of age?"  
  
"Bugger it, puppy, I seem to have forgotten your drink," Spike replied, handing glasses around. Buffy smiled, the repartee familiar but the lack of bad feeling behind it a welcome change. She watched as Xander grabbed his beer from Spike. A tentative friendship seemed to have sprung up between the two males, based largely on a mutual respect for beer and sports. Anya, sitting between them, looked bored as they continued a conversation on the relative merits of different brews.  
  
Buffy turned to watch the dancers at the Bronze - her sister with a group of friends, Willow and Tara with their arms wrapped around each other, oblivious to the crowds around them. It was wonderful to see the two of them back together. If her abduction could be considered a good thing in any way, then it was that it had brought the two witches back together.  
  
Willow and Giles had been in constant email contact in the past fortnight, discussing the fact that Buffy's Slayer strength had become an almost tangible, physical part of her. Although Giles had no answers yet, he was devoting himself to research. Meanwhile, Willow and Tara were helping Buffy master some meditation techniques that she had found useful in drawing on the strength. While she had not experienced the same communication that she had known while at the Initiative, Buffy was somehow sure that if she needed that link again, it would be there.  
  
The events at the Initiative had also brought her and Spike together. There had been no suggestion of him moving back to his crypt, or even of him moving out of her bedroom. No one had commented, but she got the feeling that her friends were pretty happy for her. Spike had devoted himself to looking after her in the two weeks since her return, bullying her into eating so she would gain some weight, forcing her to start some light training but not allowing her to exhaust herself, keeping her company during the day while Dawn, Willow and Tara were at school and Xander and Anya at work.  
  
Without discussing it or formalising their relationship, the vampire and the Slayer had become inseparable. Buffy smiled to herself as she thought about what she had planned for tonight. Although Spike had spent every night of the past fortnight in her bed, it had only been to hold her as she slept. Tonight, though, Buffy definitely had other plans ...  
  
Spike noticed her secret smile, but before he could lean over to her, Willow joined them at the table, out of breath.  
  
"That sister of yours is becoming a bossy-pants," she said, not really complaining. "She's hijacked Tara to show her some of those dancesteps, Spike. I think you've created a monster."  
  
They all looked over to where Dawn was instructing poor Tara on the dancefloor. Anya stood up abruptly.  
  
"Come and dance with me Spike," she said. "I'm sure we can do better than that."  
  
Xander straightened up and frowned slightly, not sure if he liked this turn of events, and Spike smirked at him, then winked at Anya. "Sure thing, pet," he said, taking her hand and leading her onto the dance floor. He swung her into his arms and they began dancing.  
  
Buffy, Willow and Xander sat in companionable silence, watching the others dance. Suddenly, Willow spoke.  
  
"Do you remember, back in high school, when I was tricked into thinking that demon Moloch was a boy called Malcolm who was messaging me on the computer?"  
  
The other two nodded in unison.  
  
"And we were all sitting around outside the school afterwards, joking about how the one boy who seemed to actually like me had turned out to be a demon robot, and the teacher that Xander had had a crush on was a giant preying mantis, and the only boy Buffy had liked since moving to Sunnydale was a vampire ... Xander said that we were doomed to never have a normal relationship ..."  
  
The other two nodded together again. They all watched the dancers - the vampire salsa-ing with the ex-vengeance demon, the witch jiving with the Key.  
  
"Guess I was right," Xander said cheerfully.  
  
"Absolutely," said Buffy, smiling. "And you know what? I wouldn't change it for a thing."  
  
"Me either," Willow said. She raised her glass. "Here's to love on the Hellmouth!"  
  
They all drank deeply, then rose to join their loved ones on the dance floor.  
  
THE END 


End file.
